Ranma's Got His Girl Face On
by LlamaMathilde
Summary: Ranma's looking suddenly pretty, and Ryoga gets confused.  Alternate versions of chapters 9 and 10.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Characters property Rumiko Takahashi. Work of fanfiction, not for profit.

Inspired by the fics "Changing Viewpoints," "Happily Married," and "Estrogen Dreams."

* * *

"Ranma Saotome, prepare to die! How dare you impugn Akane's -" Ryoga's fist whistled through the air like a freight train.

Ranma sidestepped casually, gripping Ryoga's wrist and following the path of his arm. With a slight tug, he overbalanced Ryoga into a waiting knee.

"- Honor – Oof!"

"Ranma! Are you fighting with Ryoga again?" Akane grabbed the carefully arranged flower vase that Kasumi had set in the hallway. Cold water sluiced through the air.

Ranma shoved Ryoga's head to the ground and stepped on his neck to keep him there.

"Thank me later, pig-breath," he muttered as the splash of cold water hit him. This was no time to let Akane know that Ryoga turned into her pet pig with cold water. Ranma, meanwhile, felt the transformation wash over him, so to speak.

"He started it," Ranma whined, her voice now girlishly high.

"A likely story," Akane huffed. Then, in a gentler tone, she inquired, "Ryoga, are you all right?"

Ryoga pushed Ranma's foot off of his head. "Yes, Akane. I'm sorry if our fighting upset you." He glared at Ranma. "But Ranma-"

"Why, hello, Ryoga," Kasumi cut in, smiling, as she poked her head through the doorway to the kitchen. "You are staying for dinner, aren't you?" Without waiting for a response, she continued blithely, "Akane, would you help me set the table?"

"Ranma, behave yourself," Akane hissed as Kasumi ducked back into the kitchen. She turned to Ryoga, "No, Ryoga," she said, "your fighting such a jerk doesn't bother me at all, just as long as you don't get hurt." She turned on her heel and followed her sister into the kitchen.

Ryoga stared after Akane with shining eyes. "She worries about me!" he breathed.

Ranma opened her mouth for a smart comment, then shut it, smirking.

Ryoga eyed him. "What are you smiling about?"

"Nothin'," she said. Her pert girl's face stared unnervingly at Ryoga.

"Ranmaaa," growled Ryoga. "Quit looking at me like that."

"Heh." Ranma smiled. "Just thought I should let you know – I figured it out. You love Akane."

"Shh!" Ryoga looked around furtively. Then, seeing that no one was near, he dropped to one knee. "Of course I'm in love with Akane." Ryoga planted an elbow on the ground and bowed his head. "She is the most kind-hearted, lovely woman, who is completely wasted on betrothal to a –"

"Aw, stuff it, pork-brains. You sound like Kuno. I get it, already. But you're wrong. You're not in love with Akane, you *love* Akane."

Ryoga looked up. "That's the same thing, isn't –"

" – like a _mother_."

* * *

Ryoga had sat in a tree for days, contemplating Ranma's words, after having dinner with the Tendos and then attempting, and failing, to wipe the smirk off of Ranma's face.

Well. A mother? Ryoga had a mother...he fingered his mother's latest postcard, with a picture of the Eiffel Tower, a cheery "Hello from Hawaii!" and a postmark from Minsk. Yeah. It had been a long time since he had seen his equally directionally-challenged mother.

Much as he hated to think it, Ranma's teasing observation had rung true. Ryoga was always defending Akane's honor. He had this rabid desire to defend her. But...he really didn't want to see her naked, or any of that. They had gone on one date, and she hadn't had anything much to say to him. This wasn't enough to bump her into "mother" status, but there was certainly something there. He wondered if it was his pig-brain that had made him so attached to Akane. She'd been so *nice* to his pig-form that first night he'd challenged Ranma. She'd been so comforting, and warm, and she'd hugged him...

"Thought about it, porkchop?"

Ryoga swung his umbrella at the infernal face, which ducked and laughed. Ryoga flipped heavily out of the tree, evading Ranma's kick on the way down.

"What the heck are you doing in the Ozarks, Ranma?" he spat.

Ranma sighed. "I live here, Ryoga."

Ryoga looked around, dazed. "You live in the Ozarks?"

"No, Ryoga," Ranma said patiently. "This is the park a few blocks from the Tendo dojo."

"Oh. Well..." Ryoga tried to conjure up the burning rage again.

"Nice that you're in town again. It's been pretty dull around here."

Ryoga stared at the back of Ranma's head.

Ranma looked back. "Aren't you coming? Akane and the others'll be glad to see you."

"No, I can't," Ryoga answered slowly. "I haven't brought any gifts this time. I was going to pick up some crystals or something from a cave."

Ranma grinned. "I'll walk you to your house. You can get something out of that souvenir store you call a room, and say it's new."

* * *

Akane was indeed pleased with the pointy wooden shoe, even though there was only one of it and it didn't fit her. "I'll put it right in my window," she said, tromping upstairs.

"Gift for dear old mum, eh?"

"Die, Ranma!"

Ranma rode the parabola of the punch easily, and dropped into the koi pond with a resigned sigh and a splash. She walked out wringing her clothes. "That all you've got, bacon-butt?"

Ryoga charged.

* * *

Ranma winced. "It's nothing, Kasumi."

Kasumi made a tsking sound. "Hold still. You have a very pretty face when you're a girl, and I wouldn't want it to scar."

"I don't know about that, Kasumi," Nabiki remarked. "A single scar like that could be very mysterious."

"Serves you right for baiting Ryoga," Akane snorted. "Ryoga, don't feel bad. Ranma had it coming to him."  
Ryoga ducked his head. Akane's words did make him feel better, but he was more than a little ashamed of himself. He replayed the scene in his head.

* * *

"That all you've got, bacon-butt?"

Ranma sank into a guard stance as Ryoga charged, and Ryoga said the first thing that came to mind.

"Prepare to die, pretty girl!"

Ranma's face screwed up into a look of affront and she launched at Ryoga in a fast combination.

Ryoga stumbled as his eyes caught up with his brain and relayed it a message: Ranma _is_ a pretty girl.

_No_, Ryoga had shouted back to his mind. Ranma is _not_ a girl. Anyway, I would _never_ hit a girl. So Ranma can't be a _real_ girl.

"Dinner!" Kasumi had shouted.

This was always their cue to stop fighting. Ranma turned her head towards the door, her perfect high girl-cheekbone shining in the sunset.

If she's not a _real_ girl, then why are you staring at her?

Ryoga could lie to himself and say he'd simply lost his grip on his bandanna, but he knew better. Ryoga had wanted to make that voice stop. He had wanted to get rid of the pretty vision before him. He'd thrown that mutable razor-edged bandanna, knowing that Ranma had his guard down – and Ranma had let out just a very little shriek, like a girl.

* * *

Ryoga stared at his hands.

"Why aren't you inside making nice to Akane?" Ranma asked.

Ryoga looked up. Ranma was doing pushups in a handstand, the wad of gauze taped to his cheek shining garishly white in the moonlight.

Ryoga smiled slightly. Ranma always did things gracefully. "I don't know." He couldn't apologize. Ranma was a martial artist; pain came with the territory, and this was merely a scratch. But, he wanted to atone for it somehow, and keeping Ranma company seemed like an honorable thing to do.

Ranma's eyes flicked up towards Akane's brightly lit bedroom window. "She's probably studying anyway," Ranma said.

"Yeah," Ryoga replied.

There was silence for a while, punctuated only by Ranma's steady inhales and exhales.

Ryoga leaned back, resting his head on his rucksack, and looked up at the stars.

After a few minutes, Ranma spoke again. "Hey, pork-butt, I've been thinking – "

"Don't call me that."

Ranma stopped mid-handstand and blinked. "Okay," he said. "Ryoga. I've been thinking, physics, you know, those equations, they don't make much sense-"

"Since when are you interested in school?" Ryoga snorted.

"I don't know," Ranma answered. "Maybe since Akane is," he said, although he didn't look up at her window again.

Ryoga wondered why he felt a pang of sourness in his stomach. "Okay," he said quickly. "Okay, they don't make sense. So what?"  
"So there's this field, on the west side, and I thought, maybe if you could punt me over the field, and I had a stopwatch, we could get this x – y thing right. It might take a couple of tries, though."

Ryoga stared at him. Leave it to Ranma to think of a bizarre idea like that. Then he started to smile. What could be more fun than kicking Ranma repeatedly over a field? It wouldn't be like the bandanna incident – Ranma was like rubber. He'd only bounce when he came down. It'd be fun to watch. Maybe it would help Ryoga with his own correspondence courses, too.

Ranma saw the smile, and grinned back. "Like the idea?"

Ryoga smiled up at the stars. "When do we start?"


	2. Chapter 2

Ranma had been kissed by Shampoo, and Mouse had seen. Ryoga had appeared, and had demanded to know why Ranma was cheating on Akane. Akane watched in dismay as they all disappeared in a cloud of martial arts discord, leaving her to walk home by herself.

"Hey, Akane, why aren't you off fighting with them?" Hiroshi, one of Ranma's friends from school, had just walked out of the school gates.

"Ranma'll be all right," Akane shrugged. Ranma would always be all right against Shampoo and Mousse and Ryoga. Nerima was no Jusenkyo, with its immortal prince and winged guards.

Hiroshi laughed. "Yeah, Ranma's a class by himself, isn't he. But, you know," Hiroshi gave her a swift sidelong glance, and finished in a rush, "you're a great fighter, too, Akane."

Akane blinked in surprise and Hiroshi, emboldened, grinned. "Don't forget it," Hiroshi continued. "We may be mortals, but we mortals think you're good, don't we, Daisuke?"

Akane could feel herself blushing and smiling, and before she could stop herself, she was asking, "And do you think I'm cute, too?"

Hiroshi smiled winningly. "If you weren't Ranma's, I'd ask you out."

Back in her bedroom, Akane slammed her math book shut. Ranma's! Was she Ranma's? What had that ever gotten her? Teasing and insults; half-hearted "sparring" where she punched and kicked while Ranma, with his infuriating _superior skills_, merely dodged. She didn't want to be Ranma's anymore. She had practically died in his arms, and he had had the nerve to take back the declaration of love that she had heard behind his words, if not actually in them. If not actually in them! The thought came floating back to her, as it had so often, that if he couldn't have said it then, he would never say it. Never.

It had been Hiroshi, who was neither as skilled, nor as bold, nor as brave, as Ranma, who had said all the things Akane had wanted to hear. He thought she was a great fighter, and compared to Hiroshi, she certainly was. She knew instinctively that Hiroshi could take her on dates; that they could watch movies, and talk about the news, and do their homework. Nothing and no one would come crashing through the ceiling, except possibly Ranma. Hiroshi would politely decline to eat her cooking, and they could order takeout, and it would be delivered without mishaps or Amazonian interference.

And if they got married – why not? Akane asked herself defensively. It's _my_ daydream - well, Akane could teach in the dojo, and Hiroshi, who was a solid student behind his jokes, could run the books and take care of the publicity. Hiroshi would be around for anniversaries and birthdays. He wouldn't forget, and then scratch his head in perplexity and look up with big eyes and expect to be forgiven because he was a great martial artist and so cute and everyone loved him...

Akane stopped swinging her legs, brought up short by a sudden wave of guilt. Of course she would forgive Ranma. She would rage and be disappointed, but she'd always forgive him, because that was the thing about Ranma: he rarely did exactly what Akane wanted, but she knew beyond a doubt that his intentions toward her were always good. She just wasn't really his first priority. Hiroshi, on the other hand...Akane felt a thrill of dread. Hiroshi could make Akane his first priority...but Akane was Ranma's fiancee, and she shouldn't even be thinking these thoughts.

"I hate you, Ranma!" _Why do you make my life so difficult?_

Ranma froze in mid-knock, his hand suspended beneath the duck on Akane's door. He huffed silently back down the hall. Akane of all people should know that the fight hadn't been his fault. Hadn't she seen Shampoo come out of nowhere and glomp onto him? Hadn't she seen that Ranma didn't want to be kissed? Akane was just as blind as Mousse, to think there was anything going on there.

"Ranma-kun? Would you mind helping me in the kitchen?"

Ranma jogged a few more steps down the hall, so Akane wouldn't know that he'd been near her room. "Sure, Kasumi. I'll be right there."

Ranma threw the onion into the air and whirled the knife at it, following it with a barrage of carrots. They landed neatly sliced in separate bowls, and Ranma grinned like a triumphant ginsu chef.

"Well done," Kasumi smiled. She added some lemon to a sauce and tasted it thoughtfully.

Ryoga, sitting at the table nursing a cup of tea and a sore wrist, merely grunted. "How come you changed into a girl?" he asked.

"It's more fun to cook as a girl," Ranma said. "The colors are brighter, and I'm faster." As if to prove the point, Ranma picked up three cucumbers and tossed them into the air, and they descended limply in paper-thin slices.

Ranma picked up some potatoes – "yes, Kasumi, I've scrubbed them," – and was about to repeat the performance when his mother's voice came from the hall, "Kasumi, have you seen my red kimono?"

Ranma's face suddenly turned panicked, and the knife followed the potatoes into the air.

It's going to cut him, Ryoga thought, watching Ranma's knife hand start to move as though the knife were still in it. Only Ranma's mother could distract Ranma this much.

Ryoga had spent the past hour trying to pound Ranma into the ground, but to see Ranma get hurt unintentionally, just because he was scared of his own mother, seemed different somehow. Ryoga jerked the bandana off of his head and sent it flying towards the knife, spoiling the pretty arc. The potatoes and the knife tumbled toward the back of the kitchen, where nobody was standing.

"Aw, Ryoga, what'd you do that for? You spoiled my show," Ranma pouted lightly, the way she often did as a girl. Her face went anxious again as Nodoka appeared in the kitchen. "Hi, Mom. I, um, accidentally got splashed with cold water. I was just about to change back, heh, heh..." Ranma lunged for the sink and turned on the tap, splashing herself with water so hot that it steamed.

"Ranma's such a great help in the kitchen," Kasumi remarked innocently. She turned to Nodoka. "The kimono might be hanging up to dry. Let's go check. Ranma, if you could clean up a little when you're done?"

Ranma sighed with relief as they turned the corner. He picked up the potatoes and rinsed them again, washed the knife off, and started to cut the potatoes precisely on the cutting board.

It was kind of fun to be a girl sometimes. It wasn't his fault he'd been cursed. Why should his mother actually kill him if he were to act too girlish? No, that was wrong thing to say. Ranma was not weak. He would kill himself, if his mother decided he must. Honor, and all that. But why should she? It wasn't like Ranma was being a pervert like Happosai, or stealing things like his father, or cheating at school. What was wrong with acting the way his girl-body made it easy to act? Sudden tears swam in Ranma's eyes, making his vision glassy, and he wiped them away with his hand before he realized that he was in his guy-body. He glared at Ryoga, and the other boy flushed and looked down.

Ryoga felt the teacup's handle start amorphizing between his fingers, bending like the clay it had been. He'd been thinking of doing something, all right, but laughing wasn't it. _What the hell is wrong with me? _It was one thing to be bewitched by Ranma's girl-form. He was a guy, Ranma-as-a-girl was pretty, and that was only natural. It was another thing altogether to envision hugging Ranma-as-a-guy. _I did _not_ just imagine that_, he told himself firmly. _I hate Ranma. _That thought was reluctantly rejected as soon as it was voiced. He hadn't hated Ranma much since Jusenkyo and even a while before. Ranma was a good fighter, and a good friend. Irritating, at times, and full of himself – _especially where Akane is concerned!_ – but a good friend nonetheless.

Ryoga looked up anxiously, wondering if his thoughts could be transmitted through the air, but Ranma was – _demurely?_ – wiping down the counter.

The teacup's handle broke completely, and Ryoga hastily pinched the two pieces back together.

Now Ranma _was_ looking at him. "It's a good thing I gave you one of the cheap cups," he said.

"Ranma, you arrogant jerk. That's no way to treat a guest."

"Oh, I don't know about that." If Ranma had been a girl, he would have arched his eyebrows here; Ryoga could almost see it. "How about making sure you treat your _host _right?"

Ryoga felt his cheeks redden. "I haven't done that in a long time, okay? I don't even know why I started in the first place." _Except to tick you off,_ his mind supplied. And then, of course, it had felt so good. Ranma didn't know what it was like to be a defenseless little pig, not even being able to hold up his umbrella against the cruel winds and storms, with no friends in the world except for one friend with a nice gentle voice, and a nice warm bosom, and –

The onion bounced solidly off of Ryoga's head, and landed sadly on the floor.

"Yeah, I know what you're thinking about," Ranma said sharply. "I can see you blushing. Akane's _my_ fiancee."

Ryoga stared at the onion. It certainly hadn't hurt. Maybe he and Ranma could do collision of particles next.

"I would never think impure thoughts of Akane!" He had been thinking of her bosom in a _nurturing_ sense. "You'll pay for that, Saotome!"

"Outside, please," Kasumi murmured, returning to the kitchen. "Oh, my, is that an onion on the floor?"

Neither of them actually seemed to be in the mood for fighting. Ranma seemed unusually disturbed from being startled by his mother, and Ryoga couldn't seem to work up a good rage to fight. He blocked and kicked automatically, and he and Ranma fell into a sort of kumite. _I recognize this_, Ryoga thought. _Yeah, this is one of our first battles, when I used the umbrella._ But that was too easy for Ranma, and his umbrella was inside. He needed to summon some motivation, or Ranma would get bored and whup him while he was fighting so lethargically. _Akane is pure and gentle, and Ranma is a boor who cheats on her and doesn't appreciate her_, his mind started obediently. _She should be my girlfriend, and then we would..._ his mind came to a screeching halt.

There was absolutely nothing that Ryoga could do with Akane. Kissing her was out of the question. He had seen the treatment Ranma got just by looking in her direction a little too long. Besides, someone as pure as Akane probably didn't want to kiss.

Ranma had switched. This was now Ranma's first fight with Mousse. Interestingly, Ranma was Mousse, and Ryoga had to pay a little more attention to remember what Ranma had done. _Ranma wasn't as good then_, Ryoga thought. He improved on one of Ranma's counterattacks, and watched smugly as Ranma-pretending-to-be-Mousse fell back.

Ryoga couldn't fight with Akane. She was pretty tough when she was mad, but he didn't want her to be mad at him. He supposed she could get stronger, but he winced inwardly at the thought of what that would take. Tie Akane to a boulder like Cologne had done to Ryoga? Ryoga slapped himself for even thinking that thought.

Ranma stopped, surprised. "What'd ya do that for?"

Ryoga mimed the way Ukyo threw her little spatulas and pushed bursts of air towards Ranma with the edge of his hand.

Ranma bent around the invisible darts. This was an interesting technique. He sent some back.

Ryoga deflected the air with his bandanna, continuing his earlier train of thought. He couldn't go camping with Akane. She'd miss her family and her friends too much. She'd want to go to school, and worry about her exams. She'd try to cook, and the two of them would spend a week recovering. If they had – he threw himself preemptively to one side, anticipating that this next thought would trip him up – kids, Akane would want to raise them in a house, not moving around.

Of course, maybe Ryoga was wrong. Maybe he didn't know Akane that well after all. That was part of the problem. He'd been worshipping her, and even sleeping in her room occasionally, but he hadn't managed to pick up much of her habits at all.

Ryoga had had enough of this. He could feel the doom creeping in on him. If he didn't love Akane, and if – as he had always really known – Akane didn't love him, and only paid attention to him to get on Ranma's nerves, then what did Ryoga have left to live for?

Ranma switched from the dart game to something more familiar, out of a Jackie Chan movie.

Ryoga snorted. Of course, Ranma got to be Jackie Chan.

But, inexplicably, Ranma stopped before the last scene, where he would have triumphed. "Come on, Ryoga, Kasumi looks like she's setting the table."

Ryoga shrugged. He wouldn't have minded sinking into the nice, cool mud this night, although that would have made him late for dinner. Maybe his pig side was starting to get the best of him. He flicked his bandanna to get rid of some of the sweat. It had been a decent workout anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

Nodoka was sitting in the kitchen, finishing a letter to one of the few friends who had always had things to say to her, even during the years when Genma and Ranma had been gone.

Akane and Nabiki were out in the yard with Ranma and Ranma's friend Ryoga, who seemed to have been turning up every week or so. Kasumi was somewhere upstairs. Genma and Soun were playing shogi on the porch.

The screen door squealed and Ranma bounded in. "Hi Mom," Ranma said, a pleased happiness sparkling in his eyes.

"Ranma." Nodoka smiled fondly at her son.

Ranma wiped some sweat out of his eyes with a towel and then flipped the towel back onto his shoulder. He snagged a glass from the dish drainer and poured some water from the pitcher Kasumi had thoughtfully left out. "Can I get you something?"

"No, no, I'm fine, dear."

Ranma gulped down the water and set the glass by the side of the sink. "Okay, then, gotta run."

"All right, dear. Give me a kiss first?"

Maybe some teenage sons wouldn't be so obliging, but Ranma had missed his mother for years. He grinned. "Sure, Mom." Ranma bent his head toward her – and flinched. Just as quickly, he recovered and pecked his mother on the forehead. "I love ya," he whispered, and jogged out.

Nodoka closed her eyes. The katana that had startled her son lay next to her on the table. She should have left it in her room, but that's what years of habit did for her.

Was it so wrong of her to want to uphold the family honor? If she could not hold up her end of the bargain now, then she had been that much more of a fool then, when she had let Ranma and Genma go off on that training trip. But it hadn't been foolish, she told herself firmly. Ranma was a splendid martial artist, so wasn't that proof enough of Genma's methods? She hadn't been wrong to trust Genma, just as she hadn't been wrong to marry him. And, as part of marrying Genma, she had agreed to be a martial artist's wife. Whether other people called certain traditions barbaric, cruel, or misguided made no difference: she was bound to uphold them. If nothing else, she must uphold them, in thanks that Genma had brought Ranma home.

With one pale finger, Nodoka traced the embroidery on the katana cover. There were some benefits to the contract: the katana kept her husband from reverting to some of his more uncouth ways, and kept Ranma's arrogance, which was a reflection of his father's, in check. And, she knew that if it came right down to it, no matter how fast she swung the sword, she would always be that fraction slow enough that would allow both Ranma and Genma to escape. However, the charade was taking its toll. The Tendo family thought she was deranged; Ranma and Genma were beginning to avoid her. But what was she supposed to say? "Never mind, I don't honor contracts anymore?" "Sorry, boys, forget that you spent ten years in the woods enduring who knows what privations to hone Ranma's martial arts skills; I'm not living by the contract anymore."

Nodoka raised her eyes speculatively and gazed out the kitchen window to where Ranma and Ryoga were sparring in the yard. A questionably contrite Akane had one hand over her mouth and the other clutching the garden hose. Ah, yes, that was another problem. Make that two.

After Ranma had rescued Nodoka from the cliff and lain sprawled out in his girl-form before her, Nodoka had had to think fast. She had said the only thing that she thought could prevent the contract from being breached: "this child is a boy." At the time, she had believed it to be true. Ranko definitely had boyish behavior. Nodoka was just extending "Ranko is a tomboy" to "Ranko is a boy."

Now, Nodoka was beginning to have her doubts. She watched in dismay as her manly son, who was currently a soggy woman, batted her eyelashes expertly at her friend Ryoga, baiting Ryoga to charge. These days, Nodoka never watched Ranma fight, or even looked very long at Ranma at all, unless either she or she and Ranma were alone. This way no one could be witness to her seeing those condemning displays of femininity, and thus she could pretend that she had never seen them at all. It took all her of willpower to do this, when after ten years she wanted to drink in the sight of her son like an endless stream of lemonade.

As for the other problem...Akane yelled something across the yard that made Ranma's eyes flash and made Ryoga duck his head. Nodoka let a slight frown crease her forehead. Secretly, she was glad that Ranma and Akane's wedding had failed. It wasn't that she disliked Akane; she just wished that the girl could show more of the sweetness that she showed to everyone else to Ranma. They hadn't grown much closer since the day they'd come home from the cursed springs, bloody and disheveled. The bickering had died down a little, but it hadn't been replaced with any kinder words. There were no accidental hands on shoulders, no unspoken hints of a desire to be left alone, together. Had their childish denial of feelings become a pretense too ingrained to be cast aside, or so ingrained that it had become real?

It was evident to Nodoka that Ranma and Akane loved each other, but she was less confident that their love could translate into married life. Akane, she thought, was flattered by her status as Ranma's fiancee but annoyed by the basic facts of Ranma's personality, and especially furious at being upstaged by his martial arts skills. Ranma, she considered, didn't know what to do with Akane and alternated between shockingly bad manners and a delicate resignation. Neither of them was his or her natural self when around the other.

Nodoka sympathized somewhat with Akane; when two people are meant to be seen as a whole, it is difficult to be seen as the lesser half. The girl was in essence good at the same things as Ranma, but less so, and not particularly good at any other skills, except perhaps school. Nodoka allowed herself a real scowl. She had overlooked the fact that Genma did not considered formal schooling as important as she herself did, and that he would therefore not make it a priority with Ranma. She was also doubly annoyed with the idea that Ranma might be letting Akane be the "smart" one, content with being himself the "dumb" one.

_Ranma, you are just as smart as any of them,_ Nodoka thought fiercely, raising her eyes back to the window.

The chair clattered to the floor as Nodoka sprang to the sink, clutching the ledge. _It couldn't be. It has to be a ruse! _That_ smile!_

This was what she had watched for between Ranma and Akane. She had waited to see this expression on Akane's face: that small, lazy smile, the one that would control Ranma with its hints of anticipation to be fulfilled; the veiled eyes, at once predatory and appreciative, alive with a power she was just learning to possess. Only, Akane was neither giving the smile nor receiving it.

_This can't be!_

If this were true, Nodoka would have to kill her son, and Genma, too. She shrank from the thought of killing Ranma and turned to the equally appalling thought of killing Genma. There would be no more soft panda fur to cuddle next to in the winter, and no more earsplitting snoring, which after years of silent solitude could lull her to sleep. Her mind switched back to Ranma – Ranma! _Man among men, what an utterly stupid phrase! Who wrote that contract, anyway? Genma, you fool!_

With a strangled cry, Nodoka clawed at her kimono, snatching the contract from its carrying place. She read it over again, desperate for some loopholes.

"Auntie Nodoka," lilted a pleasant voice.

Kasumi mustn't see her seeing – Nodoka whirled so her back was facing the window. "Kasumi, dear," she said, breathlessly, sliding the contract back into her sleeve.

Kasumi had already turned towards the far counter. She lifted the lid on a pot, expertly checking on the marinade. She turned the knob for one of the burners.

"Hm." Kasumi turned the knob back off and opened a drawer. She took out of box of matches, struck one, and turned the knob again, very slightly, holding the match to the middle of the burner. The ring of gas caught fire, and Kasumi blew out the match and turned up the heat. She set the covered casserole dish on the range.

Nodoka stared at the flames, transfixed.

"Auntie Nodoka, what a wonderful kimono," remarked Kasumi with a smile as she began to set the table. "It's such a lovely color."

Nodoka smiled back faintly. _Good_, she thought. _Maybe we can alter what's left into a dress for you. That's right, Kasumi, dear, just go check on the pantry now..._

"Wow, Mom, look out!" Ranma snatched Nodoka's kimono sleeve away from the burner, sweeping Nodoka entirely into her arms and depositing her safely in the middle of the kitchen. "Gosh, Mom." She brushed roughly at the fabric, which was only barely singed.

Nodoka held onto Ranma's forearm, her heart beating wildly, trying to conceal her disappointment. Ranma had startled her a great deal by coming in for another drink of water at just the wrong time.

"Auntie Nodoka, are you all right?" Akane asked, her eyes fixed jealously on Ranma's grip on his mother.

Nodoka fought back a frown. A couple of seconds later and the contract would have been nothing but ash.

"I think Ranma noticed just in time," Kasumi chimed in gently. "My, the burner is up rather high." She turned it back to a lower setting.

Nabiki came, towing Ryoga behind her. "You can see the door from the yard, Ryoga. Honestly, this directional thing of yours is too weird."

Nodoka averted her eyes from the two of them. "I'm fine, everyone," she managed. "Ranma is such a – " – a man among men, was what she would be expected to say, she thought bitterly. "A good boy," she finished. "Run along, now. Kasumi, shall we put together a salad?"

And thus began Nodoka's summer of very close accidents with her kimono sleeves.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the reviews!

tuatara and Diren: I've switched the pronouns (although I might've missed some). When people refer to Ranma in thoughts, like "isn't he something?" I've kept him as a him, since I think of Ranma right now as a guy who occasionally has a girl's body, and I think the other characters do, too, for the time being. But if they observe Ranma, like "Nabiki saw her standing there" I've tried to change those all to "her," since Ranma's physical form is now a girl's.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: By the way, the idea of Hiroshi as a suitable boyfriend for Akane comes from "Akane" by Kirinin.

* * *

Ranma had passed the physics final but had failed the class after missing too many days of school on training trips.

Nodoka frowned at the report card.

Akane tsk'ed. "Really, Ranma," she said. "Sensei would have _told_ you that you weren't going to pass, if you'd just asked. Then you could have made up the work."

"If you knew that, why didn't you tell me?" Ranma asked, stung.

"It's not my fault you were gone so much."  
"And it's not my fault that Taro decided to go back for a drowned-ankylosaurus tail!"

Akane raised her eyebrows.

Ranma felt uncharacteristically near tears. He and Ryoga had worked darned hard on those problem sets, and had the real bruises to prove it. "At least I'm not a tomboy who-"  
"Yeah, well, at least I'm not a pervert who-"  
Akane clapped her hands over her mouth as Nabiki jabbed her sister in the ribs, and Nodoka looked up at Akane with an interested expression.

"Pervert?" Nodoka inquired, looking alarmed.

"It was nothing, Auntie. I got mixed up." But Akane couldn't let it go, and shot a dirty look at Ranma. "At least _I_ passed all _my_ classes, though."

Nodoka put a hand on Ranma's arm as Ranma took a breath to retort. "Ranma, please. Kasumi, dear, may I use the telephone in the kitchen? It will be a local call."

"Of course, Auntie, but it _is_ after eight..."

Nodoka rose gracefully. "That is all right."

Ranma trailed along after his mother. She was having such a weirdly awful time around the burners, and the knives, and everything lately.

* * *

Ranma waved to Ryoga, and trotted to the library, which was next to the field where they "worked out" Ranma's weekly problem sets. Ranma's mother had made a deal about summer school with Principal Kuno, where Ranma could take summer school physics. If he passed, the summer school grade would replace his failing grade altogether. Ranma wasn't sure how his mother had cracked that nut, but it had probably had something to do with his mother going to the market to buy a coconut, and then coming home from the meeting with her katana freshly washed, and the coconut sliced neatly in half.

Ryoga had passed his own correspondence course, which Ranma had been afraid of. But it had been Ryoga who had appeared one day at the beginning of the summer and approached Ranma.

"Kasumi said you're doing summer school."

Ranma didn't pause in his kata. "What's it to you?"

"I seem to end up here about once a week."

It had been fun. Ranma missed an aerial and did ten in a row to make up for it. "Okay, so?"

"So, if I can make it here, I'll still help you with your homework."  
Ranma broke an imaginary limb over his knee. "Yeah?" He looked at Ryoga suspiciously. "Why? What's in it for you?"

Ryoga gave him a smug smile and lowered his voice. "I help you, and you won't ever tell Akane about P-chan. If you even threaten to, just once, then the deal is off."

Ranma hadn't seriously thought about unmasking P-chan for over a year. In fact, quite the opposite: he suspected that somehow Akane would find a reason to get upset with Ranma rather than Ryoga anyway. Ranma executed a perfect spin kick, landed, and made a slight bow. "Deal."

* * *

Ranma stood on the steps of the small building and wrung out her hair. The little branch library had a single-stall unisex bathroom, which was perfect for changing back, since she often ended up in a pond.

A good-looking young man with glasses walked past her, looking like he was trying not to stare. Probably a nerd, but, thought Ranma as the man opened the door for her, maybe a polite sort.

Ranma headed straight for the bathroom and locked the door firmly behind her.

She smirked as she filled her thermos with hot water from the tap. She changed out of her wet practice clothes into a pale green dress. Ryoga only _thought_ she got changed, but really, half of the time Ranma stayed a girl. It was usually easy to find the lost boy wandering around in the field, and then to torment him a little bit. Ryoga had some strange trade deals with vendors all over the world, swapping exotic items duty-free, and so he was often good for an ice cream or two.

Ranma fluffed her hair in front of the mirror. She wondered briefly why she did all of this, and why she even thought of herself as a 'she' sometimes. Her mind strayed to the man a few moments ago, and how gratifying it had been to see him watching her. Maybe it was because as a boy, Ranma got beaten up, chased down, trained nearly to perfection and unnervingly close to death, and even threatened by his own mother. As a girl, with the notable exception of Shampoo before Shampoo had known about Ranma's curse, Ranma mainly got admiring glances and the occasional free treat. Kasumi, Nabiki, and even Akane when she wasn't mad, dressed Ranma up like their personal Barbie doll. If there were people watching, Pops fought just as hard but not nearly as dirty when Ranma was a girl. And before his mother had known that Ranko was Ranma, she had spoiled Ranko rotten with attention, or clothes, or cooking lessons every time they had met.

Ranma decided that the pout she had started to wear, thinking about her mother, was unbecoming to such a perky dress. Maybe she'd go easy on Ryoga today. They could just split a popsicle. Ranma felt herself start to smile. She loved cracking twin popsicles in two. She pushed open the door and headed for her favorite section of the library for some easy reading before heading out.

To her surprise, nerd-boy was there, too. He looked up. "I thought I might find you here," he whispered. He held up a book. "Gymnastics?"

Ranma overcame her momentary shock – nerd-boy was a little sharper than she had thought – and grinned. She reached past him, plucked a book off the shelf, and held it up.

"What, juggling?"

The Anything-Goes style required a certain amount of flexible thinking; juggling was very good cross-training, and something Ranma could practice late at night. Ranma smiled and wiggled an eyebrow at the man. She wasn't surprised when he picked up a stack of travel books from beside the shelf and followed her to the checkout desk.

Ranma flounced out the door without a second glance, but then waited around. The man had had a bunch of books, which would take a while to check out. Besides, a quick scan around told her that Ryoga must have gotten lost in the woods, and in not the field, and would take a while to find. On the other hand, it was fun to listen to Ryoga's stories about getting lost, although she had to pry his directional curse out of him each time before she could ask questions. Ranma lingered on the steps, but before she could make a decision, nerd-boy came hurrying out the door.

The man stopped hurrying as soon as he spotted her. He smiled. "I know a good noodle place downtown," he said, shifting his bookbag so it was on both shoulders. He held out his arm confidently. "Care to join me?"

What the heck. The sun set late these days, and doing homework at the library with Ryoga was always a good alibi. Ranma's mother went for it one hundred percent, his father didn't dare contradict her on this point, and Ryoga was always so confused about dates and times that he could never testify otherwise. Besides, Ranma knew the place the man was talking about, and if she was not mistaken, tonight was buffet night.

Ranma lowered her eyelashes demurely and put on a Kasumi-like voice. "Yes, that sounds very nice."

* * *

Ranma studied the man in front of her. He was solemnly detaching a dumpling from the bamboo steamer basket, working patiently so as not to tear the skin.

This was their third date.

"You know, I think you're really special," the man said seriously. He reached over with his chopsticks and placed the dumpling on Ranma's plate, then started working on one for himself. "I'm glad I've gotten to know you better."

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ Ranma thought with rising panic. Teasing Ryoga was one thing. Letting Kuno chase her around was all in fun, too. But this was getting serious. This was _three_ dates with a normal boy who thought she was _really special_ and wanted _to get to know_ her. But every week he'd been at the library, and the past two weeks, even though Ranma had known that he would be there, because he had said that he would be, she had gone in anyway. She couldn't get this out of her head. She _wanted_ to go on dates with him. _I am turning into a girl._

Ooh, there was shrimp in this one. Ranma sighed to herself. They were such _nice_ dates. "I'm glad to have gotten to know you, too, Akira."

He smiled. "I have to admit, you're the first girl I've known who hasn't been crazy about cats."

Ranma gave a genuine shudder. "Yes, well, I had a few bad experiences."  
The man looked concerned. "Here, let's talk about something – what in the world?"

"Such pretties!"

To her horror, Ranma felt her chest being squeezed. She reached down and ripped Grand Master Happosai and a large chunk of her shirt off of her chest, but the old man twisted through her fingers, hopped onto the table, and launched himself into the air.

The other people in the restaurant were starting to stare.

Akira looked furious. "You stay away from her!" he shouted.

Happosai landed lightly on the ceiling and stuck there. He turned to look at Akira and started cackling so hard that tears streamed down his face. "What's this, a Romeo? Happo-Fire-Burst!"

Ranma was so angry that ice crystals were forming on her skin. She sprang off her chair, made a tumbling pass over the table, and knocked the fire-bomb as hard as she could through an open window – and then she pushed off of the far wall and headed for Happosai.

The old cretin's hair was greasy in Ranma's fingers as she slammed him into the opposite wall.

"How dare you attack him!" Ranma hissed, choking the tiny old man with her other hand as they slid down the wall. "He can't fight back. That thing would have killed him and all the rest of them!"

Happosai was turning purple. Ranma let up slightly, and Happosai choked out, "only-a-stink-bomb."

Well...there _hadn't_ been any explosion from outside. Okay, that was kind of funny... maybe.

"...besides, he...can..._handle_...himself...heeheehee, get it?"

Ranma felt her feet touch the ground, and immediately punted the old man as hard as she could. The open window whined and shattered as Happosai passed through it, and people scrambled out of the way of the broken glass.

Ranma leaned against the shredded wallpaper and took a few deep breaths, trying to get her temper under control. Akira had gone up to the counter and seemed to be talking animatedly with the manager.

"Miss, your shirt?" A waiter held out a napkin.

Ranma tucked the napkin into what was left of her yellow silk shirt.

Akira came over. "Ranko, would you like to stay or leave?"

Ranma looked down. "Let's go," she whispered.

Akira steered them out of the restaurant. "It'll be all right," he said. "I had enough on hand to cover some of the damage, and they said their insurance would pick up the rest."

Ranma had never thought much about the cost of wrecking buildings, and now the guilt was threatening to overwhelm her. "Aw, Akira...how much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," Akira said firmly. "I offered to pay for this date, remember?

That didn't make Ranma feel any better. How much did a new window and some wallpaper cost? At least a few days' worth of teaching at the dojo. "Really, I can –"

"Please let me, Ranko. When a man lets his date defend herself, he feels like he ought to make it up to her."

Ranko blushed furiously. Leave it to Akira to make it a matter of honor. But one thing was clear to her – if Happosai was crazy enough to attack Akira, then it was only a matter of time before the rest of the crew got in on the action.

Akira touched Ranma's shoulder. "Ranko...have I said something wrong?"  
"Of course not, Akira. I'm just..." Ranma trailed off, steeled herself, and started again. "Well...I...I mean, I've had a great time, but maybe we shouldn't see each other anymore. I...um...I'm really busy this summer. It's been – um – taking some time away from – I'm taking _summer school_..." At least that wasn't a lie.

Akira bit his lip and looked down. "Sure, I understand."

Ranma felt rotten. "It's been really nice, though. And thanks, really, for, um, handling this." She waved vaguely at the restaurant. "Maybe some other time..." Like what, never?

"Right. I'll be around." Akira straightened his glasses. "I hope you've returned all of your library books."

_Because he knows I won't set foot in that library again if I can help it_, Ranma thought, ashamed that she was being so transparent. "Yeah," she whispered. "Well, um, have a good summer."  
"You too, Ranko. But before you go, may I – ?"

Akira's lips were warm on Ranma's cheek, and then he walked away.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Open to suggestions. I don't consider this complete, but I had to get all the main parts down so I could stop thinking about it and concentrate on other things.

* * *

"Ranma-kun – er – chan, are you sure you wouldn't like to wear something more...feminine?"

"Yeah," Ranma replied sullenly, staring at herself in the mirror.

Nabiki and Kasumi exchanged glances. This was going to be Nabiki's graduation lunch, and Ranma was wearing the same practice clothes that she'd been wearing all week, minus a wash or two. She'd taken to spending most of her time as a girl, but she wasn't doing the normal things that Ranma liked to do as a girl, like dressing in outrageously cute and skimpy clothes, eating sundaes, and generally annoying the heck out of Akane.

"Akane-chan is wearing her yellow sundress," Kasumi tried again. "You would look very nice in your red one."

"I'm sorry, Kasumi-oneechan. I just don't feel like dressing up. Please excuse me." Ranma darted out of the open doorway and disappeared.

Nabiki shook her head. "I'd bet money that something's up," she said, lounging against Kasumi's dresser. Most of Ranma's girl clothes were stored in Kasumi's room, and not at the Saotome house. "I mean, I thought Ranma would be jumping at the chance to show up Akane on a day like this, and here he hasn't even combed his hair."

Kasumi's brow held a slight crease. "I agree, Nabiki-chan," she murmured. "Perhaps we should try to get Ranma-kun to go as a boy?"

"He hasn't been a boy for a week," Nabiki said, picking up an origami paper crane from Kasumi's dresser and making it flap. "I wonder if Akane's done something to him."

Kasumi sat on the edge of her bed in an expression of uncharacteristic defeat. "Oh, Akane." She lay down gently, her legs still hanging over the edge.

Nabiki dropped the crane and flopped down next to her sister. "Oh, Ranma."

Kasumi turned her head to Nabiki. "Is Akane still taking walks with that other boy, the funny one?"  
"Yes. His name is Hiroshi. His father is an accountant, and his mother is a homemaker. They live opposite the school from us."

Kasumi stared at the ceiling. "Akane knows that she is engaged. And she knows that this sort of behavior hurts Ranma's feelings."

Nabiki picked a spot on the ceiling to look at, too, where flecks in the paint made a kind of triangular pattern. "This thing with Hiroshi even surprised me," she admitted. "Ranma and Akane have liked each other all along. I thought they would have grown out of pretending to not like each other by now."

Ranma wiped her eyes. _I thought so, too_, she said silently to herself. She hadn't been meaning to eavesdrop, but her hearing was quite good and the door was still open. _So Akane really has dropped me for Hiroshi. I knew it._ It was so stupid. Ranma had always loved Akane. The posturing and the protestations otherwise had been a form of self-defense. If they were going to get married anyway, then in the meantime, Ranma was not about to tempt fate, or his fickle father, or anything by letting on how important Akane was to him. But this had backfired. Akane hadn't been playing along, or if she had been, she'd stopped.

Ranma padded silently downstairs toward the furo. She should at least wash her face.

_Jusenkyo should've done it, but I blew that, too_. They had each saved the other, in a way. It had been beautiful and heroic. Akane had woken up in Ranma's arms, wearing his shirt. But even when everything should have been all right, when he'd reduced the greatest threat to their love into a mere baby, Ranma still hadn't been able to say that he loved Akane to her face.

_But even if it were different, I'd still have my curse. And if Akane didn't want me then, she's sure as heck not going to want me now. She's better off with Hiroshi,_ Ranma thought savagely, turning on the cold tap and splashing herself in the face._ And of course, I've been cheating on her, too, going on those dates with Akira. No wonder she doesn't want to be my fiancee any more._ Ranma grabbed a face towel. "Stupid girl body," she choked into the towel.

"It does make you shorter."

Ranma threw the towel in the direction of the voice. Ryoga, lacing up his boots, snickered, and it sailed out the door.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Ranma snarled.

"Kasumi invited me," Ryoga said. "See for yourself." He pulled a postcard out of his backpack and waved it at Ranma. "She sent one to all of my P.O. boxes, but I've only been to Munich and Togo since then."

Ranma waved off the postcard, and Ryoga tucked it back into his pack.

"But then the fire hydrant repairman slipped and I got sprayed with cold water, so I had to drag my stuff here and change back. There should still be some hot water left over for you."

"It's okay, I'm not changing."

"Not changing?" Ryoga looked puzzled, and then he began frowning. "Ranma," he growled. "I know what this is. You're going to wear some ridiculous thing and get Akane all mad at you."

"No, I'm not," Ranma sighed. "I'm going like this."  
"Like that?" It looked okay on Ranma normally, but Ranma-as-guy's clothes hung all over the smaller Ranma-as-girl. Ryoga frowned again. "Going like that when you have plenty of other clothes to wear is a sign of disrespect to the Tendos," he intoned.

"Oh, get over it!" Ranma snapped. "Maybe I don't want to dress up!"

"Then why go as a girl?"

"Because I'll just get splashed with cold water anyway." Actually, Ranma was spoiling to have another go at Happosai.

"Then why not at least make an _effort_ to look nice?"

It was a good question. A lacy push-up bra and some low-cut shirts would certainly have attracted the old lecher by now...but Ranma just didn't _feel_ like dressing up any more.

Ranma noticed with some dismay that even Ryoga had managed to find a button-down shirt and decent pants, even if they were somewhat wrinkled. "Maybe I don't want to look nice. Maybe I'm tired of guys staring at my body." _Like Akira._ "Maybe Mom'll finally slice and dice me if I go like this. Check that. She'll hold the sword over me, and I'll have to slice and dice _myself_." Suddenly tears were coursing down her face, and she flicked them away in annoyance.  
Ryoga sprang to his feet in surprise. His arm reached out automatically to Ranma, and he yanked it back. "Ranma – what the hell? You're all about having people look at you. I've never met such an immodest person in my life."

"Immodest?" Ranma saw a chance to divert attention from herself and seized it. "Talk about immodest! I bet if Akane were in here naked you'd turn into a little piggy and –"

Ranma saw Ryoga's fist coming from a mile away. Regular blow, normal amount of rage, nothing tricky. _Stupid girl body_, she thought to herself again – and she didn't dodge.

* * *

Ryoga's fist smashed into Ranma's face. Ranma flew backward against the tiles, her head bouncing on them with a crack, and Ryoga's knees buckled in shock. "Ranma! Why didn't you dodge that?" The question sounded incredibly stupid. His mind raced to make up a suitable excuse: _Ranma's so fast. He's even faster when he's a girl. I never have to worry about if he'll block my punches or not. He was looking right at me. This wasn't like the last time. He'd just insulted me. There was nothing dishonorable about trying to punch him. He should've been able to block that._

"Ranma! What are you doing to poor – "  
Ryoga spun around.

Akane looked at Ryoga in confusion. "Ryoga?" She looked at the body on the floor. "Is...is that Ranma?" She paused uncertainly, then turned on her heel. "I'm sure it served him right," she huffed, and walked away.

Ryoga stared after Akane. A few months ago he would have been overjoyed for her to have seen him vanquish Ranma, but now...was it just barely possible that he thought Akane was being just a little bit mean?

Ryoga's feet took him to Ranma's side. Water soaked through the knees of his pants as he felt around Ranma's head.

Ranma had an unusually tough skull, and while the tiles were slightly chipped, Ranma's head seemed to be in good condition. Her eyes snapped open.

Ryoga jumped as far backward as he could with his hand still under Ranma's head.

"Did you hear that," Ranma chuckled. "_I'm sure it served him right_," she mimicked. "Did you know that Akane's been walking home with Hiroshi?"

Ryoga blinked.

"Hiroshi is one of my friends at school."

"I'm sure it's all right, then," Ryoga managed, his head spinning as though he were the one lying on the floor.

"No," Ranma continued conversationally. "It's not all right. Akane might not really hate my guts, but she sure doesn't like me anymore." She tilted her head to look at Ryoga. "I think the wedding's off again," she said in mock conspiratorial tones.

"Ranma..." This was _all wrong_.

"But it's okay, because maybe I don't like her after all."  
This was going from bad to worse. _Ranma, please stop talking_, Ryoga begged silently.

Ryoga's request was answered – sort of: "Hello, Ryoga, dear. Have you seen Ranma anywhere?"

"No, ma'am," Ryoga said, shoving Ranma bodily into his backpack in one swift motion. "Nothing perverted going on here. I was just washing up a bit."

Nodoka looked surprised, and blushed lightly. "I am sure that you are never perverted, Ryoga, dear."

Ryoga felt his own cheeks light on fire. This was not a conversation he wanted to have, either. "No, ma'am," he said. He hurried down the hallway as fast as he felt would still be unsuspicious, and vaulted up the stairs.

Kasumi was standing by her bedroom door and looked on, unfazed, as Ryoga gingerly shook Ranma out of his backpack and onto the floor.

Nabiki poked her head out of her own bedroom.

"Ranma-...chan," Kasumi probed gently, shielding Ranma's puffy eyes from Nabiki's notice, "Dressing nicely can sometimes make one feel better, ne? Maybe the red dress?"

"Sure, Kasumi. Whatever you say."

* * *

"Akane. Yo, Akane – wait up."  
Akane fixed Ranma with a cold stare. "If you're going to dress like a girl, you should talk like one," she hissed. "I don't see why you had to be a girl _today_. We all know who you are. There won't be anyone to flirt with."

"Akane –" Ranma's eyes were large. "I'm sorry. I didn't have time to change back."

"You had all morning."  
"I mean, I didn't have time to change once I had _decided_ I would – "

"Whatever! Fine! You know, you really should apologize to Ryoga."

Ranma started, dumbfounded. "What? He's the one who decked _me_!"

"Yes, but now he has to walk around with wet pants."  
Ranma sneaked a guilty look behind him, where Ryoga was walking with Nabiki and Kasumi, and occasionally frowning in Ranma's direction. Ryoga sported two large wet patches on his khakis.

But that could be handled later. This was now or never. "Akane – I'm really glad I've had the chance to get to know you."  
Akane stopped so suddenly that Ranma had to steady her. "_Ranma?_"

That one look was everything Ranma had dreamed of. It was like that moment her eyes had opened at Jusenkyo, and fixed upon him with such utter joy – which was now turning instantly to suspicion.

"What in the _world_ are you playing at, Ranma?"

"Akane." _Strike fast, boy! Are you a man among men? _"I love you." Ranma held her breath.

Akane's face closed off completely, and she pinched her lips together. "What is it now, Ranma?" She sniffed at Ranma critically. "Did Shampoo give you some potion?"

This was worse, this was far worse, than the cat pit had been. "Akane, I'm not joking, I..."

Akane turned her head away. "Oh, Ranma. All I know is that you hardly notice what I do any more." Akane put a hand up casually to her face. "You went from insulting me every day to ignoring me altogether. But that's fine, all right?" Akane's voice was wavering now. "Maybe we'll get married later because our fathers want it, but I gave up on you loving me a long time ago." Akane swallowed and looked right at Ranma. "I know you just said that because Hiroshi and I are dating, but you know what? It's too late."

* * *

Lunch passed by in a blur of tasteless food. Ranma couldn't remember when he had enjoyed food less. Akane was perfectly, blandly civil to Ranma, and wouldn't meet Ranma's eyes. Ryoga promptly got lost trying to find the restroom. Nabiki talked animatedly about the college courses she was planning on taking, and when she excused herself for a few minutes, Kasumi and Ranma's mother took over making amiable small-talk. Genma had surreptitiously turned into a panda and was getting free food from curious customers.

Ranma needed some air. She slid out of her chair and into a waiter, who sloshed a pitcher of ice water over her. Ranma bit her tongue before she could curse out loud, and sponged at her dress with a towel the waiter gave her.

Nodoka looked up and smiled. "Ranma. How practical of you to wear a dress. You and the girls all look so lovely today. Kasumi, dear, did you pick those colors?"

"Oh, yes, Auntie. I thought it would look nice if we each wore a different color." Incidentally, the colors also matched the colors of the leaves on Auntie Nodoka's kimono – but it would be unseemly for Kasumi to call attention to that triumph of detail.  
Ranma watched her mother's hands warily, but when they didn't go to the katana, Ranma relaxed. "Yeah, Mom. We match your dress, too."

"So you do! Kasumi, how clever."

Kasumi smiled, and Ranma took the opportunity to mumble a quick "'scuse me," and slip past their chairs.

Ranma walked down the hallway to the restroom, but instead of going to the ladies' room, she sprang lightly up to the window at the end of the hallway and gently eased herself out of it.

The kitchen vents were blowing this way, but it still felt good to be outside, and alone. Ranma flattened herself against the wall and took a few deep, calming breaths.

"Out with it, _Akira_."

Ranma tensed instantly, her heart pounding. Akira was _here?_ In _trouble?_ She willed her heart to slow down so that she could listen. That was Nabiki's voice, and Nabiki alone wasn't a physical threat, but it wouldn't hurt to know what was going on.

Akira's voice was just barely audible. "How did you find out?"

Nabiki's voice took on a smug edge. "I have my sources. Come on – a very tiny old man attacks a super-human martial arts genius, who looks like a model and can vault twenty feet without breaking a sweat?"

There was a grinding sound, and Ranma heard Akira mutter something about "pervert" and "some nerve."

"He certainly does, but we're not here to talk about him. Let's talk about _you_."  
"What about me?" Akira was starting to sound belligerent, and Ranma didn't blame him, although she was a little surprised. Akira had seemed pretty mild-mannered on their three dates.

"Of all the people in the world, I wouldn't have figured on _you_."

"Surprised at last, eh, Nabiki?"

_They know each other?_

"How did it happen?"

"When you've been enough places and you realize that the only place you want to be is with someone...then some things start seeming less important and some things start seeming more."

"Unusually wise words."

"Do you actually know anything about it?"

"I get around." There was a small silence. "But, you're not together anymore?"

Ranma felt sick. She didn't feel like listening any more, and besides, she was reasonably sure that Akira was going to be safe. Ranma crept away to the front of the restaurant. The conversation continued without her.

"I'm working on it."

"Mum's the word, Nabiki. How much to keep you quiet?"

"2000 yen." Nabiki paused. "But if it works...you get it back."

Ranma found the remainder of the lunch to be a tolerable affair, except for her mother accidentally turning on and walking into a lawnmower at the hardware store next door; but fortunately, Ranma in her smashing red dress was faster than the mower blades, although of course she lost a few inches of skirt in the process.

* * *

Ranma sat on Hiroshi's windowsill, rubbing the place on his head where Akane had smacked him for showing too much leg at lunchtime.

The curtains moved gently in the breeze. Hiroshi was sleeping soundly. There was a model rocket on one side of his bed, and a little desk lamp painted with planets on the other. Glow-in-the-dark stars were stuck onto the ceiling.

Ranma leaned back and looked outside. Yep - those were correct constellations on Hiroshi's ceiling.

Ranma watched the boy sleep. He really liked Hiroshi. Hiroshi and Daisuke had made it clear early on that they liked Ranma just as he was, curse and all. They had witnessed each of his battles at Furinkan High, and had cheered him on through innumerable unbelievable situations. Hiroshi was no Kumon Ryu, and didn't deserve the fright that Ranma's visit was probably going to cause him, but it was so chaotic to try to talk to someone seriously during the day around here.

It was time. Ranma flicked a pebble from the windowsill. It ricocheted to the left, then to top, then to right of the window frame.

Hiroshi stirred, then blinked – then fell out of the bed clutching his covers as he spotted Ranma sitting in the window.

"Who? What? Don't – don't hurt me –"

"Relax, Hiroshi, it's just me."  
Hiroshi grew even paler in the moonlight, if that was possible. "Ranma! Oh man. Ranma. I didn't mean – I never meant – "

Ranma knew that if he stood up, the breeze would ripple around him, and his shirt and Chinese pants would inflate just a bit, and that he would look incredibly awesome. He also knew that this would scare the pajama pants off of Hiroshi, so he stayed seated.

Hiroshi was still babbling. "Nothing's been going on, I swear. We just –walk around – a little, honest, I never, _ever_, I _never_ touch her."

"Hiroshi, it's okay –"

"Please, Ranma, it's all my fault. Please, please don't hurt Akane."

Ranma nearly fell out the window. Hurt _Akane_？"Hiroshi, I'd never hurt Akane! What do you take me for?"

"I just wanted to make sure." Hiroshi scrambled out of the bedsheets. "But I'm really sorry, Ranma. I knew it would hurt you, but she really needed someone to talk to, and I couldn't help it." He stood bravely by the foot of his bed. "If you feel like pounding me, you can."

If Ranma really felt like pounding Hiroshi, Hiroshi would be dead, and Ranma would be dishonored for life. Ranma blew out a breath. "I just want to know why, man."

Hiroshi thought for a few seconds. "You want the truth?"

"Damn straight."

"Because I love her more than you do." Hiroshi looked away.

_More than I do?_ Ranma raged, speechless. _Would _you_ rescue her from Mount Phoenix, or an eight-headed dragon? Would _you_ put up with her taunts of 'pervert' and 'half-man'? Would _you_ stand by as she hits you, without hitting back?_

"I wouldn't have started if you'd just been a little nicer to her," Hiroshi said. "But you're always picking on her. It doesn't take a genius to see that you'd save her from anything, but...I don't know...she was just so sad all the time."

Akane was never sad, was she? Wasn't she just angry?

"And how do you like it when she hits _you_?" Ranma breathed tightly.

Hiroshi looked up again. "She never hits me. And that's another thing. She's not an angel. You've taken a lot of junk from her. But that's not what she needs. I can help her with that. And if she hits me, she knows it's over." Hiroshi smiled gamely. "Probably because then I'd be dead."

The jerk was actually gaining confidence! "We're still engaged," Ranma said levelly.

"I think you can work on that," Hiroshi said. "Do you really want to be engaged to her?"

To not be engaged to Akane? But that was his _entire purpose_! What would he do? Ranma gripped the windowsill. Too bad he hadn't had this conversation a week ago – maybe he could have run away with Akira, and pretended to be a girl for the rest of his miserable life.

"We're still engaged," Ranma repeated. "Akane is _my_ fiancee." _Whether I like it or not._

Hiroshi slouched on the edge of his bed. "Yeah. She is." He sighed. "Okay. I'll stop seeing her."

Ranma stood up, feeling that now was the time to make his dramatic exit, but something about Hiroshi in his checked flannel pajamas looking forlorn gave him pause. _This is not the time to be girly_, Ranma tried to tell himself firmly. _I need to be one-hundred percent guy right now._ But his mouth, as usual, didn't listen to his brain. "Don't stop seeing her," Ranma heard himself saying. His brain immediately switched sides. _Yeah! It's not fair that I should have to stop going on dates with Akira, just because I'm a cursed half-guy-half-girl with crazy martial artists after me all the time. It's not fair that Hiroshi and Akane should have to stop seeing each other, just because Pops and Mr. Tendo engaged her to me._

"Ranma? Are you sure?"

"Yeah. She'd just hate me more." His mind perked up. "Maybe I can get them to switch me to Kasumi, or...Nabiki..."  
"Wow, Ranma. Thanks."

_Now_ was the time to make his exit. "Just don't do anything stupid," Ranma said. He relished the clean feeling of free-fall as he dove the twelve stories straight down, to do a series of cartwheels on the silent, empty street.

* * *

Ranma lay on his back in the empty field. He'd brought his assignment, but didn't really expect Ryoga to show up. After all, Ranma had mentioned Akane and the pig curse in the same sentence. That was probably enough to have broken their deal.

Ranma let the sweat cool on his face. If Akira was in the little library looking outside, he wouldn't recognize some guy doing katas.

Ranma felt the air around his head change, but didn't bother to do anything about it.

The point of a heavy umbrella hit the ground uncomfortably close to Ranma's face.

"Ranma. Napping again? One should always be prepared for an attack."

Ranma made a show of stretching lazily. "I didn't think you'd show up." Ryoga probably had to ask the librarian for directions to the field each time.

"We made a deal. Or do you think I have no honor?"

Ranma rolled his eyes and tossed Ryoga the textbook. "Angular motion and moment of inertia."

Ryoga caught the book and began looking through the index. He rested the book on the end of his umbrella and turned to the right page. "Maybe this would be better at the rink. There's a lot we could apply to Martial Arts Figure Skating." He snapped the book shut. "Never mind. Okay, I'll spin you in a circle – "

"No way. You tried to make me let go last time, when we were fighting the Golden Pair."

"That was because I wanted to break every bone in your body. Right now I just want to help you learn physics. Come on, Ranma. We don't have all day."

* * *

Ranma smiled coyly, watching Ryoga get flustered as she leaned forward and showed just a little more cleavage 'accidentally.' _Serves him right for swinging me straight into that tree._

Ryoga blushed and said earnestly, "Keiko, I'm very glad to see you again."

Ranma had run out of unique disguises. 'Keiko' wore the cat's-eye glasses and the purple hairband.

"It's such a coincidence we ran into each other," Ranma murmured.

"Keiko, may I ask you a question?"

"Why, of course?"  
"Do you like me only because I buy you ice cream?"  
Ranma actually dropped her spoon. _What a mean question!_ "No!" she exclaimed. "I like listening to you talk about where you've been. I like that I don't have to pretend around you. I like that I can eat ice cream in front of you."

Ryoga was looking at her very strangely. "You like that you don't have to pretend around me?"  
"Yeah." Ranma cast about for a suitable example. "We can just walk around, grab a bite, talk about things. It isn't all 'airen, marry me!' or 'R- Keiko, prepare to die!'"

Ryoga laughed, showing his fangs and looking relaxed. "You must lead an interesting life."

Ranma smiled and pushed the sprinkles on her sundae into a matching smiley face.

Ryoga leaned back. "I'm sorry I had to ask, Keiko. I've just been, let's say, taken in by pretty girls a time or two before."

A time or two? Try a dozen! "Well, I assure you, sir, I'd be just as happy with your company alone."

"And no ice cream, ever?" Ryoga teased.

The wistfulness must have shown on Ranma's face, because Ryoga immediately started laughing. "I thought not," he said. "Ranma, you're such a pill."

Everything around Ranma seemed to condense into slow motion. She heard her name echo in her ears, stretched out like taffy: R-a-n-m-a.

_Ryoga knows._

The single thought hit the bottom of her stomach and started churning up the ice cream soup there.

Ryoga's voice sounded as though it was coming from far away. "Ranma? Are you okay?"

Ranma put her hands up to her face to make sure the glasses were still there.

_Ryoga knows. And he's been helping me all this time. And he's managed to show up for practice every single week. _

"Ranma? I'm not angry. Are you still there? I'm sorry I surprised you like that."

_Oh, man. Ryoga's been nice to me as a girl. Akane's dating Hiroshi. I just dumped Akira._

Ranma felt a flash of anger. _How could Ryoga let me humiliate myself like that?_ The other part of his brain argued back: _there's nothing humiliating in dressing up and having a good time, except for tricking Ryoga. And he seems all right with that._

This was too much. Ranma was definitely going to throw up. She stood up shakily. "Ryoga, thanks for the ice cream. I gotta go." She pulled a few random bank notes out of her purple sequined purse, laid them on the table, and walked as quickly as she could out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Let's KISS.

* * *

Ranma staggered her way back to the little library and swung herself into a tree. She took off the rhinestone-encrusted glasses and stuffed them into the purple purse.

_Ryoga knew._

Ryoga had sat there and looked at Ranma in her bright, skimpy clothes. He had bought her ice cream after ice cream and laughed at her corniest jokes. It was enough to bring a girl to tears, and hey, she was still a girl.

There was a tap on the tree trunk beneath her.

Ranma hastily wiped her eyes and looked down. "Akira!" How had he managed to sneak up on her like that?

"Ranko, are you upset?"

It would be impolite to ignore him. Ranma reluctantly climbed down the tree, knowing that Akira would see at once that Ranma had been crying.

Akira took a hesitant step towards her. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Ranma held out her arms mutely and accepted a warm hug. The arms thing was actually something she had just seen other girls do. Ranma had been genuinely hugged very seldom in her life. She could feel her shoulders relaxing.

Akira only released Ranma after a minute or so. His cheeks were faintly flushed. "Ranko...if I may...I still respect your wishes...If you say that you're sure, I'll leave you alone. But I would just like to ask again, are you sure we cannot continue dating?"

Ranma tapped some dirt from of the toe of her black flat. "I wish we could, Akira," she said. "But, I have summer school, like I said..."

"Which classes are you taking?" Akira asked quickly. "Maybe I could help you."

"Physics." Ranma said with distaste, the word dropping with a thud like the cannonballs she was always having to treat as point particles.

"I'm very good at physics," Akira said, straightening his glasses minutely. "I have an International Baccalaureate in the subject."

Ranma could feel her future brightening. A few hours with Akira might make up for the time she would be missing with Ryoga, since meeting up with Ryoga was now out of the question. Unfortunately, that wasn't the real problem...

Ranma blew out her breath. "It's not just that," she admitted reluctantly. "You remember the little old man in the restaurant?"

Akira clicked his tongue, frowning. "Yes..."

"Well, that sort of stuff happens to me all the time. I don't mean getting, um, groped," Ranma said hastily. She didn't want Akira to think she led people on or anything. "I mean, getting _attacked_. There are three people who sometimes...um...follow me, and like to...um...try to..."

Akira had his fists clenched. "They try to hurt you?"

_ No, they try to marry me. _"Er, not exactly. They just sort of..._spar_ with me. They're all, um, girls. But they're really high-level girls, and they like to surprise me. I don't want to see you get hurt."

Akira nodded. His face had a trace of a smile on it. "Ranko, what if I told you I was a decent martial artist myself?"

Ranma looked at him hopefully, but doubtfully. "You'd have to be pretty good." Kodachi was possibly the weakest technically, but that paralysis powder was a real doozy. Ranma ran her eyes over Akira's physique. He certainly carried himself well. How had she missed that muscular build before?

Akira did some moves out of a kata similar to one that Ryoga favored, with lots of deceptively ponderous stances, followed by fast and powerful combinations. It was pretty convincing. Akira must have had years of training.

But, if Ranma was going to _date_ him again...Without warning, Ranma threw a lipstick and comb at Akira, the way Ukyo might throw her spatulas.

Akira dodged them easily, effortlessly, and even sent them flying back.

Ranma caught her things, hands stinging, impressed. "Okay," she said. "We're on."

Akira leaned over his soup, carefully holding Ranma's paper away from the bowl. Red X's and "-2"s were scattered liberally over it.

Ranma pushed a piece of cabbage around in her bowl. It looked a little like the eight-headed dragon she had fought in Shinnosuke's forest.

"Okay," Akira began after a few minutes. Ranma looked up.

"It's not great, but it's not terrible."

Ranma sighed. "Yeah. I thought I knew what I was doing, but I just couldn't quite..." she smacked one fist into another palm, "- connect the questions."

Akira regarded her seriously. "Ranko, I think you are an experiential learner. I really think we should try a more hands-on approach to some of these problems."

Ranma shook her head vigorously. "No. I already told you, I don't want you to get hurt." She could that see Akira was about to protest. "Look, I'm not trying to brag or anything, but..Ryoga" she still had some difficulty saying his name, "and I could get pretty beat up when we went through the homework. I'm not saying you couldn't do it, but I think I'm stronger than most ordinary people, and this Ryoga guy is like a mountain. Heck, he has a technique to break through mountains. I've seen him do it."

Akira looked frustrated. "What will it take for you to believe me?" he asked. "I think I'm probably just about as strong as this Ryoga."

"Well, I'm not going to chuck rocks at you in order to find out."

* * *

Ranma cringed. "Akira, you really don't have to do this," she called, gripping the piece of paper with the hospital telephone number in her hand, and visualizing her way to the nearest pay-phone.

"Rrrgh...-HA!"

Ranma watched in disbelief as the boulder shattered. _No way._

Akira trotted back to where Ranma was standing, brushing pebbles off of his shoulders and looking proud of himself. "There. Now do you believe me?"

"Yes..." Ranma said, feeling a little faint. Could there really be that many people in Nerima with a technique like that? Cologne, Ryoga, Ranma, and now Akira...what were the odds of that? And where did that put him, Ranma, in his quest to be best of the best, if a random guy like Akira had skill like that?

Akira smoothed down his slacks. "I'm not really dressed for this," he said, "so we'll do a pen-and-paper lesson today. We'll start the other lessons next week." He took a deep breath. "In the meantime," he said, "I have a treat. I found this great okonomiyaki place. What do you say?"

Thank goodness it wasn't Ucchan's, Ranma thought as Akira opened the door for her and ushered her inside. They got a table near the window, and the waiter had just taken their order when Ranma heard a sharp, incredulous whisper.

"_Ranma?_!"

_Oh, no._ Ukyo was one table over, her hands on her hips, and her eyes on fire. She wasn't toting her giant spatula, but her bandolier of tiny ones made a distinctive impression from inside her jacket. "U-ucchan," Ranma stammered, feeling her cheeks light on fire. "Um, fancy seeing you here." _Please don't make a scene, Ucchan!_

"I like to scope out the competition," Ukyo bit off, frowning. "And sometimes I am _awfully surprised_ at what that competition is," she said, glaring at Akira. Her eyes snapped back to Ranma. "What the hell kind of game is this, Ranma?"

Akira cleared his throat. "Ranko and I are out on a date. We're not in _your_ restaurant. I advise you to leave us alone."

Ukyo gave a high-pitched laugh. "_Ranko?_" She turned back to Ranma, her eyes troubled. "Come on, Ranma. Why are you doing this?"

"_Stop calling me Ranma!_" Ranma hissed.

People were starting to stare. A few tables back, two Chinese foreigners in bold-colored traditional dress had stood up and were making their way over.

Mousse blinked at Ranma through giant spectacles. "Is that...is that..."

"Is Ranma, you fool!" snapped Shampoo. "Airen..." she looked back and forth between Ranma and Akira, her expression turning bewilderd. "Airen, what you doing here?"

"I'm on a date," Ranma announced boldly. She had never stopped to think before just how _unbelievably ill-mannered _Ukyo and Shampoo could be.

"You can't be on a date," Ukyo snarled. "You're engaged!"

Ranma twisted her napkin so hard it ripped. "Akira..." she whispered. "I'm sorry...it's true..."

Ukyo's jaw dropped. "_Akira?_"

Akira was looking angry, all right, but not with Ranma. "That's right, _Akira_. And I'm with _Ranko_. _Got it?_" He dropped a few coins on the table and grabbed Ranma by the hand. "Ranko, let's go."

Akira pushed through the door. "Hold on tight," he said, and swept Ranma into his arms.

It was strange to experience flying over the rooftops and jumping off of tree branches from a passive perspective. Clearly, there was more to Akira than met the eye.

After a few minutes, Akira landed with finality, breathing heavily but not winded, and set Ranma gently on a rock.

Ranma pleated the edge of her skirt. "Akira...I can explain..."

"No, Ranma."

"Aw, Akira, please don't call me Ranma..."

"That's your name, isn't it?" Akira leaned with his back to a tree, facing off into the forest.

"Well...yes..."

"Ranma, I wish it didn't have to be like this. I wish I'd had more time...but now it's going to be a lot harder to keep it quiet."

"Yeah," Ranma echoed.

"And why should we have to keep it quiet?" Akira asked the forest bitterly.

"Because it's not right," Ranma answered miserably. "You see, Akira, I've only been telling you part of the truth. In reality, my name is-"

"-is Ranma, and you're sometimes a guy, and you're engaged to three girls, with a fourth crazy one who follows you around. Yeah. I know."  
"_What?_ How –"

"Ranma." Akira dropped to one knee in front of the rock. "I have a couple secrets of my own, and I think they're going to upset you. Do you promise to hear me through?"

Ranma gripped the edge of the rock. How had Akira known about her? She looked into Akira's dark brown eyes, through the man's spectacles. "I promise."

"Do you understand that sometimes people can make bad decisions even when their intentions are good?"

"Um...yes..."

"And that sometimes it's easier to maintain a fiction, even when you know that telling the truth might be the right thing to do?"

Well, she had to say yes to that one.

Akira nodded. "Okay...now I'm going to ask you a question."

Ranma rubbed at her arms, where goosebumps were forming. "S-s-sure."

"Have you ever wondered why I'm always so serious?"

Ranma was taken aback. She forced a grin. "Because a focused mind gives a focused response?"

"True, but not quite." Akira swallowed. "It's because I've been afraid to smile."

"Afraid to smile?" Ranma giggled lightly, dizzy with relief. _This_ was his big secret? "Oh, Akira..."

Akira held up his hand. "Ranma," he said, "Please forgive me..."

Slowly, Akira bared his teeth in a grin. And slowly, two little fangs were revealed...

* * *

The flame of anger burned out as quickly as it had come, leaving Ranma feeling frail and spent.

"_Ryoga._"

"I'm sorry, Ranma," Ryoga said miserably, sinking into an aikido kneel. "I knew I'd upset you at the ice-cream parlor, so I wanted to follow you, to make sure you'd be all right. And then...and then it was just..."

"Just so _easy_," Ranma breathed. It would be easier if she could just pound him; but Ryoga was Akira, and Akira was Ryoga, and now she found that the will to hurt either of them belonged to sophomore-class memories in the yard at Furinkan High. "Ryoga, what have we been doing? I'm a guy, for crying out loud. A guy, a guy, a _guy!_"

"I know you are. That doesn't change things."

Ranma shook her head, trying to clear it. "How did you even _find_ me?" she wondered inconsequentially. "How did you even show up all those times?"

Ryoga looked away. "That's how I first thought maybe it'd be all right," he said. "It's because I'd be thinking about you, and then all of a sudden I'd be on my way to Nerima. No turnarounds, nothing." He smiled sadly at his fingers. "You know, I really couldn't see through your disguises for the longest time. Sometimes I would concentrate on you, and find some stranger in front of me instead, and I thought I was going crazy. But then they all wanted to go get ice cream, and that's how I first realized they were all you."

Ranma was as gullible as _Ryoga_. She hid her face. How could she not have known? "You didn't get us lost, though, going to all those restaurants..."

Ryoga laughed a little humorlessly. "I always chose places that you already knew about, and _you_ led us there," he replied. He sighed. "I'm still as lost as always."

Ranma let the forest breeze lift her loose bangs. "Uh-huh," she agreed. "That makes two of us." She pressed her palm into the rock, making a small indentation. She had always known that the life of a martial artist would be hard, but she hadn't expected it to be hard like this. "Ryoga, we've let this get away from us." She stood up. "I'm sorry I led you on, but I'm a guy."

"Ranma, I _know_ that, and it doesn't change-"

"No." Ranma cut him off. "I'm a guy. I've got to marry _someone_ from the Tendo dojo. I've got to become the _best_ martial artist of my generation. And..." she hardened her voice. "I've got to become _a man among men_." _Go on, Ranko, cut him loose. It's the best you can do._ Her voice broke. "Don't think about me, Ryoga, 'cause I don't think I could handle seeing you around again."

Ranma willed her soul into ice and spiraled around Ryoga, who had pulled out a bandanna and was wiping away tears. The cold winds of Ranma's Hiryuu Shoten Ha left Ryoga untouched in the center of the tornado, and lifted Ranma high into the air in the direction of home.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry for yanking people around. Yes, Ch. 6 was replaced.

pizzigri: Akira revealing himself to Nabiki is still in Ch. 5.

* * *

Kasumi couldn't help herself. "Ranma-kun," she pleaded, "not the red one, too?"

Ranma looked at her steadily. "All of them," he said. "Surely the charity can use them?"

Kasumi nodded sadly. Ranma lifted the box off of the bed with one hand and set it in the corner of the room. "Thanks for letting me use your room, Kasumi-oneechan," he said.

"You're welcome, Ranma-kun."

As soon as Ranma was out of sight, Kasumi closed her door and headed for the box. She picked out the red purse, embroidered with dragons; the slinky red dress with the flare at the bottom; the purple sequined purse and matching headband; and the pale green dress with the white flowers. She hunted around until she found the well-loved cream-colored strappy sandals and the red patent-leather heels. She opened one of her bureau drawers, took out a few chunky sweaters, and carefully folded Ranma's things into the back of the drawer. The sweaters she hung in the closet, amid the newly-emptied coat-hangers, and then she went downstairs.

* * *

"Ranko-sensei has a brother?"

"Yes, and his name is Ranma," snapped Akane. "Blocks and punches. _Hai!_"

The Tendo dojo had reopened shortly after its reconstruction from the failed wedding. After the first week, Ranma had always taught as a girl. As a guy, Ranma-sensei that first week had been an insufferable showoff, and had nearly cost the dojo its advanced class. As a girl, 'Ranko-sensei' was content to be ogled and obeyed.

Akane glanced over at where Ranma was teaching. He was neither strutting around the way 'Ranko-sensei' habitually did, nor showing off the way Ranma-sensei had. He looked unusually...dull.

Kasumi, who was doing gentle stretches with the beginners, caught Akane's eye and shook her head ever so slightly.

Ranma was adjusting an advanced student's stance. Akane watched in spite of herself as she counted off the blocks and punches. _Ranma's so patient with them_, she thought sadly. Ranma could, in fact, be patient, as long as a student was sufficiently skilled enough to progress. _He never bothered with me. I wish he would._

Ranma looked up suddenly, right at Akane, and Akane could feel her face color. _Ranma is my fiance. _

Akane riveted her attention onto a surprised student. "Very good form," she said loudly, and spent the next fifteen minutes doing drills.

After the beginners had gone home, Akane let her group line up for a drink of water. She stood and rested, her thumbs tucked in her belt, as Ranma and her father supervised the advanced students' sparring. Two students, waiting their turn, were whispering nearby, and the smattering of conversation that reached Akane's ear revealed that their attention was definitely not on sparring.

"...he must be her twin brother. They look so alike."

"He's a little skinny, but man, is he ripped!"

A third student was not so easily impressed. "He must be gay," the teenager said spitefully. "Look at the way he moves his hips."

His friend nudged him. "Why are _you_ watching his hips? Are _you_ gay?"

Several students around them started giggling. Ranma looked over and frowned uneasily.

"_No_," the third boy said. "I bet _he_ is, though," he persisted, resentful of an earlier criticism that Ranma had made of his technique. "Really. Watch him. He totally walks like a girl. I bet he even-"

Akane barely had time to blink before Ranma was suddenly on her side of the room, his hand stopped a hair's breadth from the boy's throat.

Ranma stalked out the door, his ears burning in shame, pulling off the top of his gi and throwing it ahead of him in disgust.

Kasumi was already fluttering around the nearly-injured boy, murmuring over the red mark but pronouncing him basically all right.

"Senpai!" Akane called to the senior student in line. "Take charge of my group." The girl stepped out of line, taking off her gloves and heading towards the middle-level students. Akane raced out the door.

Ranma was splashing his face in the koi pond, hot tears keeping the small amount of cold water from changing him into a girl. "Akane," he gasped, catching sight of her.

"Ranma." Akane wanted to rush forward and hold him like P-chan. She knelt beside him. "Ranma, you shouldn't have paid any attention to him." _There I go again_, she thought miserably. _I'm always blaming Ranma._

Ranma's shoulders had hardened. "Yeah, I thought you might say that."

"I didn't mean it like that," Akane tried again. "I mean, no one honestly believes you're gay."

"Yeah? And what if I am?"

_Um, hello? You're my fiance, remember?_ Thankfully, Akane didn't say that. "No one would think less of you anyway," she said firmly, the implications of his words only beginning to sink in. She brushed them away. "That kid can be kind of a jerk. Don't let him hurt you."

Ranma gave his face a final rinse. "I can't teach like this," he said.

"Like what?"

"As a guy."

"Then change back," Akane suggested. "We'll say Ranko was at a dentist's appointment."

"It's no good," Ranma said. "Either way I'll lose control." He stood up. "Tell your father I'm sorry."

"Ranma! You didn't even hurt that kid. He's _fine_."

"Akane, I almost killed him. I can't take that chance again."

"Akane-chan?" Akane could hear Kasumi's voice. She turned her head instinctively, and when she turned it back, Ranma was walking away towards his family's house.

With his goofy grins and nonchalant air, and especially when he was a girl wearing his high-cut swimsuit plastered with the word "boy," one sometimes forgot just how serious Ranma could be; that he was a martial artist of the highest caliber, for whom the words honor and duty were a code for life. Akane had forgotten it. Guilt roiled in her chest. _He has to be a man among men all the time_, she remembered. _And he has to marry me. And for weeks I've been dating Hiroshi._ She dashed the tears from her eyes and prayed that she would be able to keep her temper for the rest of the day.

* * *

Genma dodged. "You'll have to do better than that, boy," he cried with his usual enthusiasm. Inside, his mind was working harder than it normally did. So was his body, for that matter.

Genma ran around the decorative stone house by the koi pond, buying some time. It wasn't nearly enough; Ranma sailed over the pond, and Genma just barely spun out of the way. It was strange. Genma should have been elated that the boy was training so hard these days. But the funny thing was, Ranma had already been at such a high level, and training so much, that this extra vigor wasn't helping his technique at all. His attacks were no more precise or creative; they were simply more savage.

Genma acknowledged to himself that there was something to the theory of over-training. After all, he himself had his distractions: shogi, the occasional drink, trips to the zoo to tease the panda-keepers. Ranma's distractions used to be to bother Akane, or to dress up like a girl and cause mischief, or occasionally to buy some frippery girl-things. He wasn't doing any of that lately.

Ranma's foot whistled by Genma's ear.

"Still too slow!" The next foot knocked Genma's glasses askew, and took a chip out of the tree bark behind him.

Genma bounced into the koi pond, turned into a panda, and propelled himself upward off of a rock. Genma's midair strike caught Ranma in the arm, and Ranma fell into the pond. She shot out of the water, looking furious, and began a whirlwind combination that Genma blocked only with difficulty.

Ranma got in a lucky strike, or so Genma classed it, as he rolled, wheezing, to a stop.

"Dead," Ranma said, without any satisfaction. She strode over to the porch, grabbed the thermos there, and carefully poured a cup of hot water over herself.

Male Ranma screwed the top back on. He bared his teeth. "Ready for another round, old man?"

Genma-panda beckoned for the thermos, and Ranma tossed it to him. Genma changed back and put a hand to his temple. "Boy," he intoned seriously, "I think it's time for a training trip."

Away from the Tendo house, Ranma's mood was markedly improved. He swung around on a tree branch, imitating some high-bar moves he had seen on television.

Genma watched, pleased. There was nothing like the great outdoors to soothe the spirit.

Ranma hopped down to the ground. "Okay, what's the new technique?"

"Here, boy," responded Genma jovially, putting a rod and line into Ranma's hands. "Martial Arts Fly-Fishing."

Ranma stared at his father. "Fly-fishing?"

"Martial Arts Fly-Fishing. It helps focus the mind."

Ranma had begun to frown, and the air around them had begun to grow cold. "Pops," Ranma said between ground teeth, "you are supposed to train me to be the greatest fighter of my generation; a man among men."

"Y-yes," Genma faltered. "That's what this is, boy. Training." This was training to prevent over-training, to be precise. On the other hand, maybe if the boy broke again, he would gain some new special ability even better than the nekoken, cat-fu. Genma weighed the idea. Nodoka _said_ she was supportive of Ranma's training, but would she really forgive Genma if Ranma came up with another sort of nekoken? On the other hand, such an extra skill might ensure that Ranma was the best of his generation, and save both Genma's and Ranma's necks. Perhaps he should test the waters, so to speak, when they got home.

Genma dispensed with contemplation, and seized his own set of fishing gear with determination. "Look, boy." Weeks of truancy as a teen had given Genma the art of tying the perfect lure. "And now...you cast." The end of the line went in a smooth arc into the water. _Thank you, Outdoors Television Programming_.

Ranma looked suitably impressed. "Okay," he said. "I cast like...this?" The line gave a jerk and dropped.

Genma had given Ranma a defective pole. It wouldn't do to make things too easy, after all.

* * *

The man in the bandanna crushed the can on the bar and held out his hand for another one.

Normally, the bartenders would have cracked jokes among themselves at a man who drank can after can of tomato juice. But, when said man could crush cans effortlessly into perfect aluminum disks, and when said man was making a visible depression in the stout oak countertop, one kept one's mouth shut.

An attractive-looking young woman slid onto the stool beside the man.

"Nabiki." Ryoga said tonelessly. "Come to gloat?"

"Next round's on me," Nabiki told the bartender. "Raspberry Perrier."

Ryoga glanced woozily at her. "Generous of you."

"It's your money anyway," Nabiki said breezily. "From when we went to the restaurant."

"Yeah, I remember." Ryoga waved his hand dismissively. "So how'd you find me?"

"It wasn't hard," Nabiki said. "This place is right next door to Ucchan's. I pass it every morning on my way to the gym."

Ryoga sat up straighter. "But I was just in North Korea!" He shuddered. "The DMZ is _not_ really demilitarized."

Nabiki waved her hand. "Does this _look_ like North Korea to you? Anyway," she continued, accepting her fruit-flavored water, "a certain girl has been on your mind, ne?"

Ryoga tossed back his tomato juice. "Yeah," he said heavily. "You're right. It's no wonder."

"Thinking about Ranma brings you to her, doesn't it?"

"Him, her, yeah," Ryoga admitted.

"How long has this been happening?" Nabiki asked curiously.

Ryoga wondered if he should be on guard against Nabiki's questions, but decided it was too much effort. "I don't know. A while. Maybe since the start of the summer." He set the empty can on the counter. "Maybe earlier."

Nabiki took a sip of water and shook her head. Ryoga and Ranma, huh. It was insane. But then, so many things around here were.

"_Damn_ it." Ryoga tapped the can lightly with his fist, and it collapsed. "Why'd he have to leave like that?"

Nabiki eyed the flattened can. "I think it's a little complicated," she offered.

"It always is, isn't it," Ryoga sighed morosely.

"Yes, but that's no reason to give up. Look, I have some information that might help you."

Ryoga popped the tab on another tomato juice. "How much?"

Nabiki frowned and twirled the bottle of water on the counter. "Free of charge."

"No, seriously."

"Yes, seriously."

"Nabiki, if this is some game..."

"It's not. Really, it's not. You see, if I can get things back to normal, then this'll make me more money in the end."

"Oh, yeah?" Ryoga took a swig of tomato juice. "How's that?"

"It's like this: Ranma's stopped teaching in the dojo. Without Ranma teaching, we can't hold as many classes, and we're losing revenue."  
"Why'd he stop teaching? And why don't you just tell him that? Get Kasumi to do it. I'm sure he'd listen to her."

"Look, Ryoga, I don't know if you knew this, but Ranma always taught as a girl."

Ryoga made a face. "Guys can teach," he said. "I taught him everything he knows about Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics."

"By beating each other up until sunrise, if Akane told me correctly," Nabiki said skeptically.

"Yeah, well, I've gotten better."

"Anyway," Nabiki continued, "the real problem is that Ranma's stopped turning into a girl."

Ryoga looked at her sharply. "His curse is gone?"

"No, it's still there. But Ranma's...different. Before, he used to hang around as a girl some, take his time about changing back." _And go on dates, apparently._ "But now, he changes back right away. It's like he doesn't want to spend an extra second being a girl. _That's_ why he's stopped teaching. On the other hand..." Nabiki tapped a manicured nail on the countertop, working out how to word this.

"Yes?"

Maybe the straight approach would be best with Ryoga. "Akane and Ranma are doing a lot better." Nabiki glanced slyly at Ryoga, who was sitting very still.

Ryoga put down the can. "They've stopped fighting?"

"For the time being."

"Are they...happy together?" Ryoga choked.

The words felt funny in Nabiki's mind, and they felt even stranger on her lips: "I don't know."

* * *

Would Ranma refuse to see him? Would Ranma be angry? Ryoga's heart beat quickly in his chest as he approached the yard. An infinitesimal check in the kata's motion told him that Ranma had noticed him.

"Ranma..."

Ranma turned around. "Yo. Ryoga. Let's spar."

"Um, okay," Ryoga mumbled, then stepped to the side quickly. Ranma wasn't kidding around. Ryoga spun and double blocked Ranma's leg. Unfortunately, this left him open to Ranma's fist, quick as a scorpion's tail. "Ow!"

"You're getting soft."

Okay. If this was how Ranma wanted to play, then Ryoga had, in fact, gathered some new tricks on his last journey. "Going easy on you. Swiss Cheese Spread!"

Ranma punched aside the array of blows that would otherwise have turned him into Swiss cheese. He countered with a new technique, but did not announce it.

Ryoga felt a brief pang. 'Pastry Blender of Doom' would have made a cool name for those sweeping side cuts. Well, if Ranma wasn't going to name his attacks, Ryoga wasn't, either.

The two fought on in grim silence for an hour, until Ranma finally smashed Ryoga into the ground. "Good fight," Ranma said curtly, and gathered up his towel and thermos.

"Ranma, wait."

"Yeah?"

"Ranma, would you like to go out with-"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ranma said, cutting Ryoga off, and walked back into the house.

* * *

Nodoka arranged the blooms in the bowl. She glanced outside, where Ranma and Ryoga were sparring. Her eyes met Kasumi's briefly.

Kasumi dropped her gaze back to the stems she was clipping. Nodoka wondered if Kasumi could see what Nodoka could see. _Maybe not_, Nodoka thought. _Kasumi is still a girl yet._ It was too bad, really; if things were different, Nodoka would have been delighted to have Kasumi as a daughter-in-law. She was sweet, obedient, and a good cook. One could entrust anyone confidently into Kasumi's care. It would have been a bonus that Kasumi and Nodoka got along well together.

As it was, Nodoka could see that this Ryoga fellow was clearly smitten with her Ranma. The other boy had shown up weekly in the early summer. He had been away for a while, but today he had returned, and his large, expressive eyes were following Ranma with a keen intensity, lingering on Ranma whenever they took a break. Ranma was by no means reciprocating these gestures – quite the opposite, in fact – but Nodoka had an idea of how courtship progressed. The urgency with which she must complete her task had multiplied tenfold.

Unfortunately, the means of accomplishing Nodoka's task had diminished. These days, Ranma was always within earshot. He had superhuman reflexes and an uncanny sense of when Nodoka was about to have an 'accident.' The problem was complicated in that Nodoka felt that the accident had to be a public one: there had to be witnesses, so that no one could accuse Nodoka of trying to destroy the contract by herself.

Nodoka studied Ryoga furtively. He was obviously a competent fighter. She remembered a handful of incidents vaguely, but Ryoga now seemed to have enough control over himself to damage neither Ranma nor himself nor the various buildings, walls, and assorted flora around them.

"Has Ryoga-kun known Ranma-kun for very long?" Nodoka wondered aloud languidly.

"Perhaps since junior high," Kasumi said amiably.

"They must be good friends. They spar so often."

"Akane-chan once remarked that Ryoga-kun saved Ranma-kun's life twice."

Nodoka shivered. How casually Kasumi had said that.

Kasumi clipped another stem. "I think..." she began quietly, to Nodoka's surprise, since Kasumi did not often express her opinions, "they are well suited to each other -" Kasumi paused.

Nodoka's hands started to shake, and she hid them in her kimono sleeves.

"- as friends, of course." Kasumi finished.

The statement was rather badly punctuated by Ranma slamming Ryoga into the dirt. He said something to Ryoga and came up the yard to the kitchen. "Mother," he said cordially. "Kasumi-oneechan. Very pretty flowers."

Nodoka noted sorrowfully that Ranma's greeting to her was no longer a cheerful, "Hi, Mom!" She resolved then and there that even though she had only budgeted for two power tools, she might as well buy three.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: My commitment to making this a Ranma/Ryoga pairing is starting to flag. Let me know what you think. If Ranma-guy is a straight male, and Ranma-girl is a straight female, then maybe each side of him needs a relationship (that's where the kissing Kasumi came from, but was then removed due to strangeness). Or, Ranma can be sort of bisexual. Or, Ranma can change from being a guy who sometimes has a girl's body to being a girl who sometimes has a guy's body. Or, Ranma can just plain love Ryoga and vice versa, despite previously thinking of themselves as straight males.

To Natalie-E-G - Yes, I've been thinking about this. It's been harder to write.

To Dr. Facer - I've been pretending Akari doesn't exist so far, but maybe I'll work her into some of Ryoga's thoughts. Soun I'm not sure how to write, so I've been saving him a little.

* * *

"Are you going to marry him, then?" Hiroshi asked, his eyes squeezed shut.

"I don't know," Akane said.

Hiroshi opened his eyes. "You want to, though."

"I _have_ to."Akane sighed. "It's not what it sounds like. I wouldn't _mind_ being married to Ranma, I don't think." She broke off suddenly, looking at Hiroshi. Was this the sort of thing you told your boyfriend? But Hiroshi was nodding, so she continued. "He needs someone, and I understand him. And there's the joining of the dojos, of course."

They looked out at the fountain, pondering this complication.

"But," Akane continued, "Sometimes I think Ranma's just a little...too much. Do you know what I mean?" Akane had a vision of Ranma, his face set in grim determination, darting into the jaws of a sea monster. She heard his voice, cracking with fury and fatigue, commanding the dragon-head tap to look upwards, so that its water could save her.

_ Ranma has always loved me._

Akane thought back to the flashes of memory she had from Jusenkyo; of how it felt to see Ranma kneeling there, trapped by the Phoenix lord; of how her entire life had compressed willingly into a single point: to turn the scepter and save Ranma. She thought about picking up Kumon Ryu by the collar, delivering Ranma's message in style, and how she had loathed him for threatening Ranma so.

_ I have always loved Ranma._

Now, what did this have to do with the boy beside her? _I love Hiroshi, too._ Would Akane save Hiroshi? Would Hiroshi save her? Hiroshi probably wasn't up to the type of challenges that Ranma was, but on the other hand, Hiroshi didn't attract them, either; and despite Akane's love of martial arts, that suited her more than she like to admit.

Physically, Ranma was hands-down handsome, more handsome than any boy Akane had ever seen. Ranma and Akane had come close to kissing a few times, but other than that...Akane remembered with regret the multiple times she had called Ranma a pervert. She had wanted very badly for him to kiss her. She had thought that that made _her_ a pervert, but she knew better now. She glanced at Hiroshi, who was watching her. Hiroshi wasn't as obviously stunning as Ranma, but she liked the warmth in his eyes, and his practical manner. Yes, a practical manner – there was something that Ranma lacked. Ranma's whole world was rooted in improbability and impracticality.

"Hiroshi," Akane said impulsively.

"Hmm?"

"Kiss me."

Hiroshi thought about asking if this was appropriate; about whether they should really be kissing if Akane was engaged. Then he looked at the beautiful girl in front of him, closing her long-lashed eyes and leaning forward. Ranma _had_ agreed to let him date Akane..._Sorry, Ranma_, he thought, and he leaned forward, too.

Ranma's greeting died on his lips as Hiroshi and Akane's heads moved together and stayed together. He watched numbly. It was not a chaste kiss; it was a passionate kiss between a man - though not a martial artist - and a woman, in a reasonably secluded area of the park.

Ranma felt a stab of jealousy, and he examined the feeling. Was it for Akane? She had been so kind to him, since that incident at the dojo. Had he hoped that she would grow closer to Ranma? Maybe, but Akane was obviously enjoying being with Hiroshi. Did he want to barge in and rip her away, and be the 'man among men' that his mother's view of men seemed to entail? No, not really. What, then, did he want?  
The answer came to Ranma with a clarity that felt like the breaking point technique on his ribs: _I wish Ryoga and I could kiss like that, out on a park bench without caring. _

Ranma took off at a dead run, the wind whipping his pigtail out behind him, trying to leave his thoughts behind.

* * *

_I am failing. Failing. Failing._ Ranma boxed around the padded tree trunk. He was exhausted. He had been training as hard as he could and harder for weeks. He had avoided being a girl for any length of time. And yet, he was _Still. Thinking. About. Ryoga._ Ranma punctuated each thought with a pulled punch at the tree.

_I am a _guy_._ Ranma tried to conjure up images from Happosai's magazine collection: bodies of impossible proportions with sultry faces. They only made him feel slightly sick. Was it true, then, what that kid had said? Was Ranma gay? Did he now think about male bodies, glistening with sweat and bulging with muscles?

Ranma grabbed the tree trunk, trying not to upchuck into the dirt. That wasn't what he wanted, either. _What I want is Ryoga_, he admitted to himself wretchedly. He wanted that weird orange caveman shirt to appear around the corner. He wanted the feeling of that hug again.

Ranma wished fleetingly for the good old days, when life was simple, and Ryoga would charge him yelling, "Prepare to die!," they'd have a fight (in which Ranma would be victorious) and that would be that.

* * *

Akane let the lace curtain fall. "I don't know what's wrong with him," she said. "He's been missing an awful lot of summer school lately, too."

Kasumi stopped peering over Akane's shoulder. She looked at Nabiki. "Nabiki-chan, do _you_ know anything about this?"

Nabiki leaned against the wall. How odd that such a pleasant gaze could make one feel so uncomfortable. She'd have to figure out how to cultivate a look like that. "Yes," she admitted. "But it's going to be hard to believe."

Kasumi had on her I'm-waiting-patiently face. "Yes, Nabiki-chan?"

"It's Ryoga."

"Ryoga?" echoed Akane, frowning. "What does Ryoga have to do...with..." Akane gasped. Ranma was avoiding being a girl; Ranma felt like he was losing control; Ranma had gotten unusually upset at that student's comment. "Not _Ryoga!_"

"Yup," Nabiki said, satisfied with the reception of her news. Her satisfaction was somewhat spoiled by the observation that Kasumi didn't look very surprised at all. "Kasuneechan, you knew?"

Kasumi had a little crease between her brows. "It had occurred to me," she replied. As an afterthought, she added, "Father is not going to be very happy."

Nabiki templed her fingers, thinking. "Akane-chan, square with us here. This Hiroshi, are the two of you really dating? Would you like to stop being engaged to Ranma?"

Akane picked at the curtain, at a loss for words. Was Ranma really in love with Ryoga? Did that mean he would never love Akane? And did Akane love Hiroshi, even though she also loved Ranma?

"You can't have it both ways, you know."

"I know." Was it possible to feel as strongly as she did for Ranma, but to not want to marry him? And if she had wanted to marry him before – before Hiroshi, that was – then why had she always been fighting with him? But, Ranma deserved her best efforts. Akane squared her shoulders. "I'll talk to Hiroshi. We can stop seeing each other for a while. I need to be sure that Ranma doesn't want to marry me, first."

"Okay, but don't take too long." Nabiki was looking out the kitchen window, where Ranma's frenetic kata had taken him. "It's only a matter of time before Auntie finds out, and then – " Nabiki drew a finger across her throat.

Akane winced, and Kasumi looked away.

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

"How do you think this looks?" Akane held a purple seersucker blouse up to herself.

"It's all right." Ranma wasn't even paying attention. He fingered a gauzy cover-up, and dropped it when he noticed the curious look the shopgirl was giving him. An angry blush crept over his cheeks. No one would have minded _Ranko_ looking at a shirt.

Akane glared at the girl and took Ranma's hand. "Come on, let's get something to eat."

They headed toward the food court. "Ice cream?" Akane offered hopefully.

"Nah. I'm not really hungry. Besides, it's bad for my training."

Akane could feel her heart squeeze. "Okay, how about a movie?"

They got to the theater foyer and surveyed the lurid posters without much enthusiasm. When Ranma shrugged and said there wasn't anything he really wanted to see, Akane was actually relieved.

"Why don't we just go to the park?" Akane suggested in defeat. They could always sit and look at the sky.

"Okay. That sounds like a good idea."

Akane looked wistfully at a display of summer dresses as they passed by. Her favorite dresses were all too small now, and these dresses would be just the thing to wear on a date with Hiroshi...

"Why don't you go in and try one on?"

Akane jumped guiltily. "No, that's okay. We're going to the park."

"Yeah, I understand – with thighs like yours, you'd be afraid to try on something like that. Now me, on the other hand..."

Akane stared at Ranma.

Ranma gave her a lopsided grin. "I'm sorry I ain't been much fun today," he said. "I've had a couple things on my mind." He eyed the dresses critically. "Try the yellow dress, Tendo. Maybe the pink one."

Akane looked at herself in the mirror for a long time. She looked fabulous. Weeks of working out and teaching this summer had given her a well-toned body, which the yellow dress was hugging in exactly the right places. A delicate flare of the skirt kept it from being lewd. She had always used to compare herself unfavorably to Ranma's girl form, but all of that agony seemed unnecessary now.

Akane reached behind herself to unzip the dress, but the zipper was stuck.

"Ranma," she called softly.

"Yeah?"

"The zipper's stuck."

"I'll get it. How does it look?"

Akane slid open the curtain.

Ranma whistled appreciatively. "Very nice." He kept a small smile on his face. "Hiroshi's gonna like it."

Akane flung the curtain shut and sat down hard on the narrow bench in the stall.

"Honestly, Akane, you think I didn't know?" Ranma's voice had a hard edge to it now. "Funny, you're supposed to be _my_ fiancee."

Akane yanked the curtain open. "Sorry, Ranma," she whispered fiercely, "but maybe I didn't want to wait around forever while you did your physics homework or fought with Shampoo."

"It wasn't gonna be 'forever,'" Ranma returned loudly back. "We were gonna get married at the end of the summer."

"Oh?" asked Akane sarcastically, her voice escalating. "Well, no one bothered to tell me!"

People were beginning to stare at them.

Akane reached back to rip the zipper open, tears smarting in her eyes. Her hand met Ranma's, and he smoothly slid the zipper down. "I do like you, Akane," he whispered.

"No, you don't," Akane took Ranma by the hand and pulled him with her into the stall. It wasn't like the people outside could get any _more_ curious. "You _love_ me," Akane stated, pushing Ranma against the wall with one hand and closing the curtain with the other. "I know you do." When had Ranma developed such an impassive face? "But you don't want to marry me, do you?"

"Of course I want to marry you."

The words came out so automatically that they hurt. There was no way that Ranma would have admitted that a few months ago. Nabiki must have been right; if Ranma had ever been in love with Akane, he wasn't anymore. "Don't be silly," Akane snapped. "Here, you'll see." Akane pressed herself up against Ranma. "Here I am, Ranma. If you want me, take me."

_Oh, man. Akane! _Ranma's mind felt like it was sparring underwater. He was, after all, a guy; and here was Akane rubbing her warm, curvy body and its areas of inviting softness against his.

"A- Akane?" Ranma gurgled. "You don't think this is kind of..._perverted_?"

Akane wasn't so sure this had been a good idea. Ranma had such a hard, lean body, and – Akane turned crimson – was _that_ what she _thought_ it was?

Then they were kissing. They were really kissing. Wow, finally. But Ranma's mouth was attached to Akane's like he was trying to draw the life from her body, and Akane was starting to worry that his hands might actually crush her ribs. This was nothing like kissing Hiroshi.

There was a polite knock to the side of the curtain. _Always an interruption!_ Akane's body howled as she pulled away from Ranma. She tried in vain to smooth her hair down as she grabbed the clothes she had been wearing. The saleswoman, carefully averting her eyes, held the curtain aside as Akane marched out of the stall. Akane was conscious of Ranma following behind her. She went up to the counter, paid for the yellow dress, and wore it out of the store without looking back.

"Akane..." Ranma caught up with her, still looked disheveled. "What...?"

"I don't know, Ranma!" Akane didn't consider herself a 'loose' person, but she was beginning to wonder – kissing Hiroshi while being engaged to Ranma, and kissing Ranma the very same day she had put a temporary stop to seeing Hiroshi? It smacked of unfaithfulness, any way one looked at it. She walked as quickly as she could to the exit.

They emerged into the sunlight and began walking towards the park.

Ranma gulped the fresh air greedily. He had just kissed Akane, and it had felt _great_! He had felt – wow – _manly_, and _alive_, and everything that had been missing for weeks. And they could get married. Everyone would be happy about that. No more worrying about his mother and the contract. He'd be a married man, right? And no more worrying about 'the schools must be joined;' he could check that one off, too.

"It'd be so easy to marry you," Akane whispered, echoing Ranma's thoughts. "Daddy would be happy, and Auntie would be happy. And I love you."

Ranma glanced shyly at Akane, not wanting to believe what he'd heard. His body took over, and he swept her up into his arms. "I love you, too, Akane!" With a whoop of exhilaration he leapt into the air, skimming over shingles and tiles.

Akane clung tightly to Ranma's shoulders, letting the wind stream through her hair, infected by Ranma's exuberance. She watched her rooftop appear, anticipation humming through her body.

Ranma deposited Akane safely on the roof, slid her window and screen open with an unexpectedly practiced ease, and snaked a strong arm around her. He set her in her bedroom gently, keeping his feet on the windowsill. "Akane," he said huskily, "do you mind if I - come in?"

Akane put her hand on Ranma's back and slowly drew him inside.

* * *

_ This isn't what it looks like, Hiroshi!  
_

_ Dammit, Ryoga, kiss me harder!_

Akane and Ranma pulled apart, panting and embarrassed for separate reasons. They stared at each other.

Akane pulled the covers up. "I'm sorry, Ranma."

"I didn't mean to, Akane," Ranma blurted out at the same moment, and then, "What for?" at the same time as Akane asked, "What didn't you mean to do?"

Akane found her voice again first. "Ranma, I'm sorry, but I can't marry you. Not if I can't even kiss you without - " she steeled herself and went on, "thinking of someone else."

Ranma took the statement utterly without reproach. "Hiroshi."

Akane put a hand cautiously to her swollen lips, her fingers coming off stained with tiny spots of blood. "You were, um, thinking of someone else, too, weren' t you." Akane shrank at the thought in general, but if anyone could enjoy a kiss like that, she supposed Ryoga could.

"No!" Ranma exclaimed, his eyes going wide.

"Idiot," Akane said sadly. He could look like his girl side even as a muscled guy in her bed. She climbed out from under the covers. "You stay here," she said, in the voice that worked so well with P-chan. "We need to talk. I'm going to wash my face, and then I'll be right back."

* * *

Ryoga made the triangle like he'd been taught in junior-high volleyball, and set the fire-bomb away. The shock wave of its explosion rippled the ground underneath Ryoga's feet, but he stayed standing.

"What do you want with me, Happosai-sensei?" he called desperately.

"Ranma-chan hasn't been around in soooo long," Happosai whined, his short, stubby arms delivering a thousand blows at once, and driving Ryoga backwards. "She'd look so pretty in my new things. I think you should help her get back to herself."

Ryoga averted his eyes as Happosai whipped out some wispy, slinky pieces of leopard-patterned stuff. He did on principle want to keep Happosai away from Ranma, but on the other hand, Ranma, when he was his normal self, seemed to relish this sort of thing – so...okay...Ryoga wouldn't necessarily mind seeing girl-Ranma dressed up in – "Whoa!" Ryoga leapt in the air just in time to avoid a salvo of firecrackers. Then he realized his mistake. The firecrackers weren't the danger –

Ka-BOOM!...

* * *

...PLOOSH!

Ryoga picked his way out of the koi pond, setting all four hooves daintily on stone before shaking the water off. He'd been trying to stay away from the Tendo dojo in order to give Ranma some space, but Happosai-sensei had good aim. It was a lucky thing Ryoga had picked up that extra strength-training in the Pyrenees; otherwise the super fire-bomb might have blown him apart instead of just blown him to the pond. He tugged his clothes and rucksack out of the water, hoping he could find a way inside the dojo to change without attracting any notice.

Ryoga had no such luck.

"P-chan!"

_Ooh, Akane!_ Ryoga's pig-brain responded automatically, at the same time as his man-brain heaved a great sigh.

Akane scooped him up. "Hewwo, widdle P-chan. Where have you been? Does oo want to come wif mommy?" She scratched his forehead between his ears and he snurfled in ecstacy.

Maybe spending the afternoon on his special pig-pillow in Akane's room wouldn't be so bad. He might be able to listen for news about Ranma, and maybe even take a little nap.

Or not! Did Akane actually have someone _in_ her _bed_? Pure, innocent Akane? Ryoga made a "bwee" of astonish and discomfort. The person sat up...and screamed.

* * *

"Get out of Akane's room!" Ranma shouted, tearing out of the tangled bedsheets.

Ryoga jumped out of Akane's arms at the same time as Ranma lunged for him, catching him in midair. The two went tumbling through the open, screenless window, hearing Akane's shriek of fear behind them.

Ryoga landed hard on one Ranma's thermoses, cracking it slightly. He beat at it frantically with his hoof, and was rewarded with a jet of sun-warmed water. This gave him the dubious advantage of turning into a stark-naked guy while a livid redhead, having been knocked into the koi pond by the force of Ryoga's transformation, charged towards him.

Ranma growled like a feral cat and attacked.

By some miracle, Ryoga's hand found his rucksack, and snatched it up to shield his face. _Greece on a Budget_ was shredded on impact. Ranma's shirt sleeve popped as another furious strike tore through the bag's leather straps like butter.

"Ranma, can't we – talk?"

A strong, bare foot lashed out and slapped the rucksack out of Ryoga's hand.

Nabiki and Kasumi had come out the kitchen door to watch. Kasumi had her hand over her mouth, blushing at Ryoga's nudity.

Genma and Soun were watching critically from the shogi board. "Use your speed, boy!" Genma called.

Ryoga ducked and rolled, trying to make his way to the koi pond. It was better to succumb as a pig than to be ogled by Kasumi-oneechan.

Rolling had been a bad idea. Ranma was taking his father's advice. A rain of blows peppered Ryoga's chest as Ryoga leapt to his feet. Ryoga was reminded eerily of the aftermath of the koi rod episode, when Ranma, bewitched by the koi rod to be in love with Ryoga, had been about to kill him in a fit of jealousy. The only saving grace here was that first, Ranma in girl form didn't pack quite the power that Ranma in guy form did, and that second, Ranma was still fighting honorably. Otherwise, Ryoga was sure he'd be out both kneecaps by now.

On the other hand, Ranma had an advantage in speed. Ryoga saw the strike coming at just the last moment. Honorably-placed or not, and Ranma as a girl or not, this one could take him weeks to recover from...

Ryoga threw both his arms into a double block, putting as much force behind them as he could. He saw them rise agonizingly slowly, and wondered whether anyone would tell his parents he'd landed in the hospital.

The strike never came.

"Just tell me one thing," hissed Ranma, standing over Ryoga with disdain. "What the _hell_ were you doing sneaking into Akane's room again?"

Now was not the time to protest that Akane had _brought_ Ryoga there. And, much as Ryoga may have wanted to, now was not the time to ask what _Ranma_ had been doing in Akane's room, especially since they were actually engaged. Ryoga put his hands up placatingly, taking a couple of steps back. "I have never done anything dishonorable to Akane. Ask her."

Akane was hanging half out of her window, her face white. "P-p-p-chan?" she stuttered. "_Ryoga?_"

"Never!" Ryoga repeated emphatically. "I have never done _anything_ to stain her honor, or to make her ashamed, or to- "

"This isn't about Akane!" Ranma screamed, her slender hands balling into fists. "It's about _me!_"

* * *

The words rang in the humid air.

Nodoka hummed along to her portable cassette tape player in the garden, her ears obscured by gigantic earphones that, while they still allowed her to hear what was going on quite well, gave the appearance of blocking out all other sound. She gathered a few more daffodils and set them in the large basket.

* * *

Everyone glanced at Nodoka, and then glanced back at Ranma and Ryoga, just in time to see Ranma burst into tears.

"Why did you come to see _Akane_?" Ranma sobbed, the strain of the past few weeks breaking through. "I thought you liked _me!_"

Ryoga reached for Ranma, stunned. "Ranma, I had no idea you wanted to see me. All you've wanted to do lately is fight me! I was trying to stay away, and then I ran into Happosai, and –"

"Good! Then stay away from me! See if I care!" Ranma whirled and ran inside.

Cloth brushed against Ryoga's arm. Kasumi was holding Ryoga's clothes out to him, eyes averted. Ryoga took them from her hastily and started dressing.

The unwelcome sound of approaching footsteps heralded Akane's arrival.

"I'm sorry, Akane-chan," Ryoga said humbly, boxers thankfully on and shirt most of the way so. He knelt tiredly on one knee. "Hit me if it'll make you feel better."

Akane made an impatient noise. "Ryoga-kun, please get up. Actually, I'm furious with you, but there are more important things to discuss right now."

"Yes, there are," added a voice that Ryoga considered one of the unlikeliest of sources: Saotome-sensei. And he did not look happy.

* * *

Despite the doe-like eyes that Nodoka-chan and Ranma-in-girl-form shared, Genma knew that Nodoka wasn't as vapid as she looked. He knew that his death, under her beloved, watchful gaze, was imminent. The thought left him feeling cold and dull.

The thought that made him jump to his feet was, what was his manly son doing running away crying from a fight?

Over the years, Genma had caused his son untold amounts of pain and anguish in the name of training. He had watched Ranma battle and bleed against assorted foes. That was all as it should be. _This_ outburst, however, appeared to stem from a pain that Genma had neither caused nor approved. Moreover, it was a mewling, disgraceful display better suited to, but never in the past tolerated from, the six-year-old that Ranma had been when he had started training in earnest.

It left Genma strangely at a loss. What do you do to punish a son who can crush rocks and battle immortals? How do you accuse him of unmanliness when he has already accomplished feats that you have not, paramount among them rescuing his fiancee, twice?

Genma cracked his knuckles. What do you do? You go to the root of the problem.

Akane-chan left him a conversational opening: more important things to talk about, she had mentioned. "Yes, there are," Genma added. "Hibiki-kun!" he barked. If it weren't for Ranma, he wouldn't have had any problem with the Hibiki boy – good fighting spirit, and all that. But this was different.

The boy jammed his shirt over his head so hard it nearly ripped at the shoulders.

"Yes, Saotome-sensei?"

Interesting. There was fear here, certainly, licking around the boy's nervous face like a dog's tongue. It was a good thing the boy was still kneeling, as it gave Genma the advantage in height. But, Genma also sensed a type of resistance. When in doubt, press harder.

"The hardest foes are those of the mind, and not of the body."

"Yes, sensei."

"_You_," and Ryoga gave an involuntary jerk, "have managed to produce some foe of the mind in Ranma." Genma touched his fingertips together lightly. "For that technique, I commend you. It appears that the boy has not practiced enough of the new technique I taught him, and was caught unwares. I will train him some more myself. But first, I must know: what does Ranma represent to you?"  
Ryoga stared, mesmerized, at Genma's fingers, which had begun an intricate pattern of tapping against each other. "Sensei," he said slowly, "Ranma is my heart."

Genma dropped his hands. So Master Happosai's technique, one of his precious few subtle ones, had worked!

And there it was. Genma found himself running back through a summer's worth of observations and coming out unsurprised.

The boy, who had just now realized what he had said, and had turned a peculiar mottled color.

Genma squatted before him. "Hibiki-kun, Ranma is a boy. He will be a man. Not a woman."

"I know that," Ryoga said, almost angrily.

"You are confused."

"I am not." The brown eyes looked up. There was the toughness that Genma had sensed.

Genma stretched out a swear word in his mind. This boy was really in love with Ranma, and Ranma, for the time being, had ceased thinking like a boy, and was starting to think like a girl.

In many ways, it was all the same to Genma. His son – daughter?- was one of the preeminent martial artists of his – her?- generation. It was even advantageous: Ranma could possess all of the talents of a genius kunoichi plus one more: the ability to shock his opponents with a stronger and more powerful male body. There was nothing inherently weak about women. Take Kasumi-chan, who might have had her own household by now, but was taking care of Soun and of her sisters. Or the Amazons. Or Nodoka-chan, who...it didn't bear thinking about. It was more crucial than ever to protect Ranma from himself.

Now, Soun...Genma spared a glance for Soun, who was staring at the shogi board with a look of intense concentration that usually preceded tears. If Ranma became Ranma-chan, the schools would not be joined. None of Soun's daughters would be spoken for. But, in Genma's mind, at least, the impetus for joining the schools was somewhat lessened by the fact that Ranma alone could (mostly) match Master Happosai. Perhaps the schools no longer needed to be joined, in order to produce a super-heir that could reimprison the Master. Genma had produced such an heir all on his own...with Nodoka's help, of course...and in fact his child was now both male and female!

Genma remembered with a rush that extreme hubris could lead to a fall. In his and Ranma's case, it was either a fall onto a knife or the fall of a katana. There was only one solution: Ranma must not be allowed to evince any more incriminating clues as to his or her new identity.

He motioned to Ryoga. "Rise, boy. And put on your pants. We have much work to do."

* * *

Ranma lay face-down on his pallet in the guest room. He had changed back into a guy and changed into dry clothes, but he didn't feel much better. What had possessed him to say those things to Ryoga in front of everyone, and how was he going to face everyone at dinnertime?

A low whirring noise started. Ranma sprang to his feet, depression replaced by fear, and raced down the hall.

Ranma quickly located the plug and pulled it. "Mother!" he exclaimed, trying to control his fury. "Why," he asked, his voice trembling, "do you need _six_ jigsaw blades _at once_?"

Nabiki, standing by Nodoka's elbow, said coolly, "Auntie Nodoka was just about to demonstrate how to cube cedar. Feeling better now, Ranma-kun?" she asked sweetly.

Ranma ignored the last part and frowned at his mother. "Mother, why are you trying to cube cedar?"

"For the moths," Nodoka said, waving her arm airily. She adjusted her safety goggles. "I've heard it keeps them out of the closets."

Ranma twitched his mother's kimono sleeve off of the wooden board, away from the path of the blades. "Okay," he said, "but I'll watch, too."

Nabiki was completely certain that the expression that flitted across Auntie Nodoka's face was disappointment.

* * *

Out of nowhere, Ryoga appeared, crashing roughly into Ranma and seizing Ranma as they fell. Ryoga pinned Ranma to the ground, melding their bodies together. "Ranma!" he gasped, rolling so that the two were side by side.

Ranma clung to Ryoga and found Ryoga's mouth with his own. Her own?

Ranma woke with a start. He sat up, sweating and breathing hard, completely disoriented. He looked around. He was in the guest room, and he had apparently taken a nap. He remembered vaguely drinking a cup of tea that had appeared on the counter. His father must have drugged it. It was a good thing that Ranma had built up a tolerance to those sorts of things, thanks to some side-training with Konatsu.

But now Ranma was dreaming about Ryoga, in addition to everything else. This was clearly unacceptable. It was just a matter of time before his mother found out.

Ranma set his hands on the edge of the pallet. A true martial artist would not live in fear, as Ranma had been living these past few weeks. A true martial artist would do what honor demanded. Ranma had been dodging the logical consequence for quite some time, but no longer. No matter how briefly, he would become a true martial artist, and a man among men.

* * *

In the kitchen, Kasumi tipped the sliced onions onto a plate. Nodoka handed her a cabbage. There was a tap on Nodoka's shoulder. She started and turned.

"Ranma!...dear..." Her exclamation faltered. Ranma was dressed all in white.

Ranma snapped his wrist out, and with a metallic clang the tanto unsheathed.

"Mother," Ranma said seriously, "whenever you are ready." He bowed to her. "I have broken a contract with my mother, and a martial artist's word is his law."

"Why – what?" Nodoka stammered. _Run away, Ranma!_

"I'm not a man among men, Mother," Ranma said baldly. "I'm sometimes a girl."

"Well, you may _look_ like a girl, but surely..." _Oh, if only Kasumi weren't standing right here witnessing this!_

Ranma glanced at Kasumi. "I apologize, mother, but this is the only way that I will ever become and remain a man among men."

Kasumi was still holding the cabbage, her calm mask in place. "Ranma, there's no need..." She stopped herself. Contracts were contracts, weren't they? And who would Ranma be without his honor? _Kasumi, think faster!_ She could hear Nabiki in the hallway, humming some song from the radio. Nabiki could always think quickly. Kasumi needed to stall.

"I will find your father," Kasumi said woodenly from between frozen lips, noting Ranma's surprised panic. Obviously, Ranma had forgotten that his father would share the one-time burden. "But first let me cut this cabbage."

Nabiki emerged from around the corner. She had put 2 and 2 together previously, and now added 4 to the sum. "Kasumi, that knife is too slow," she said. "Honor must be addressed quickly."

Nabiki flung open the kitchen cabinet and produced the industrial-grade automatic mandolin/processor that Auntie Nodoka had ordered a few days ago. She plugged it in. "Auntie, have you ever used one of these before?"

"No, dear, but I can learn," Nodoka said, and she took the cabbage and chucked it in, along with both kimono sleeves, at the precise instant that Kasumi 'tripped' and knocked Ranma aside.

Ranma was, of course, freakishly fast – but Kasumi was holding a bare knife, which was a complication, and he was also holding a bare knife, which was another complication. So, by the time Ranma had seen Kasumi safely to her feet, gotten to his own, avoided cutting anyone, and unplugged the machine, both of Nodoka's kimono sleeves and the cabbage had been ground into a mess.

Kasumi set the knife in the sink, took a pair of kitchen shears, and cut Nodoka's kimono sleeves free.

Nodoka ripped off the processor cover and started sifting through the bin. "The contract is in pieces!" she exclaimed, sprinkling some of them onto the countertop. "What a horrible accident!"

"Auntie, you must be devastated," Nabiki said drily.

Nodoka nodded. "But I thought this might happen," she said.

_No kidding!_ thought Nabiki.

Nodoka reached into her kimono and pulled out a manila envelope. "I went to an astrologist and got these," she said, extracting some star charts. "They foretold a great change."

Ranma's mouth had gone absolutely dry.

As if reading his mind, Nabiki grabbed a cup of tea off of the counter. "Here, Ranma, drink this."

Not thinking clearly, Ranma took a gulp and immediately passed out. Nabiki caught him under the arms awkwardly and sprawled him out on the floor. She picked up the tanto with a shudder and dropped it in the sink.

Genma and Ryoga ambled down the hall at just that moment, having finished applying 'health-preserving additives' to all of Ranma's thermoses.

Genma's eyes bugged out at the white outfit Ranma was wearing. "N-n-nodoka-chan?"

Nodoka's pleasant, calm face turned to Genma and began to crumple. "Genma-san, the contract is ruined. I don't remember how it was I was supposed to uphold your honor." Nodoka held out her arms in their tattered sleeves. "Without the contract, I don't remember the terms!"

Genma took his wife into his arms suspiciously. These were real tears, and Nodoka's body was really shaking with some emotion, but could Nodoka actually have forgotten something which she had dwelled upon for ten years, and which had the rest of the household in nervous fits? "Um, everything will be fine, dear," Genma said, patting Nodoka on the back.

Ryoga had Ranma slung over his back in a fireman's carry. "I'll take him to the guest room," he said.

Nodoka detached herself from Genma and seized Ranma's hand, her eyes still moist. "Oh, Ranma," she sighed, kissing his limp hand a few times. "My beautiful baby."

"There, there, dear." Genma pulled gently her away from Ranma. "He'll come to in –" Well, it was supposed to be a few hours, but obviously the powder didn't work as well as Genma had thought. "- a little while."

"In the meantime," Kasumi said cheerfully, "let's not wait on dinner. We can start while this next cabbage is cooking, and I will save plates for Akane-chan and Ranma-kun. Ryoga-kun, won't you join us?"

* * *

Akane had left when Ryoga had admitted that he loved Ranma. It was one thing to hear it from Nabiki, and quite another to hear it in Ranma's and then Ryoga's own voices.

Akane realized suddenly that her feet were taking her to Hiroshi's house, and stopped walking. She would want to see him later, but for the time being it felt wrong. She needed to talk to someone who knew both Ranma and Ryoga.

...and that someone, Akane realized belatedly, should not have been Shampoo.

Shampoo let the cleaver fall. "AiYA!" The roast duck fell neatly into two parts.

Akane nearly touched Mousse's sleeve just to make sure he was still sitting next to her in the Cat Cafe's kitchen. He was fascinated with the story.

"It was obvious," Mousse said with relish, enjoying the angry blush on Shampoo's face. "They were on a date! Everyone could see. They said so themselves."

Akane still felt squeamish about the idea, but she nodded weakly. "Is that so?"

"Mousse liar!" Shampoo hacked the roast duck again. "Airen love Shampoo, not pig-boy!"

Akane winced, that discovery still fresh in her mind. "Oh, shut up," she snapped.

Shampoo and Mousse both looked at her in surprise. Their general impression of Akane was sweet, although intent on keeping Ranma in line, and non-threatening, at least not to themselves.

"Why Shampoo shut up," Shampoo said, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Ranma may like you, as a friend, but he doesn't love you. And even if he did, and if he didn't love Ryoga, he'd marry me."

"You?" Shampoo sneered, covering her own hurt feelings. "You not as beautiful, and not as good fighter. Bad for babies."

Oh, that was going too far. Akane may not have flaunted her body as much, and she may not have had all of Shampoo's Amazonian techniques, but to dismiss her future children?

_Count to ten, Akane. Just like Kasumi said. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one..._

"Hm?" Akane smiled sweetly.

"Mm-hmm," Shampoo nodded smugly.

"WELL, HERE'S WHAT I THINK OF THAT!" That technique of Kasumi's never worked for Akane. Akane's trusty anger blazed white-hot, and her fist smashed the cleaver, and the duck, and the counter, into an indistinguishable pile of slag.

Shampoo had jumped out of the way. Akane rounded on her, her fury building, the thought 'hanged for a sheep as for a lamb' encouraging her. "You're so dumb! You make Ranma's life so difficult!" These were Akane's own admissions, but they found a convenient target. "He has to worry about upsetting you all the time!"

Shampoo had just about gotten a read on her opponent – all bluster, and no skill. "Ranma right to fear Shampoo," she said stubbornly. "And if Ranma love Ryoga, then Ranma girl, and girl-Ranma get kiss-of-death."

"Are you going to bring up that stupid kiss-of-death thing again? Well, you're not back home, _missy_. You're in _Japan_, and here we have _laws!_" Akane emphasized that statement by destroying a cast-iron cauldron, spilling ramen all over the floor. "Besides..." and suddenly her anger was cooling, like the steam rising from the ramen guts on the tile. "You'd never kill _Ranma_." She grabbed a kitchen stool to steady herself.

Shampoo slid along the wall and sat down. Akane had called her bluff. In fact, nothing was further from her mind. She had idolized male Ranma for far too long, and was now fond of female Ranma as well, with an appreciation of a girl-body that was as pretty and as skillful as her own. But even so, _Ryoga_? If it were true, and what Shampoo had seen had certainly made her uneasy, it was a bitter pill to take. Akane wasn't making it any easier.

"You saw the way they were looking at each other, didn't you, Shampoo?" Mousse prompted, eager to move the realization process along as fast as possible.

Shampoo nodded mutely.

"And you saw how Ryoga rushed in to save him, at Jusenkyo?" Mousse certainly hadn't tried.

"Mousse." Shampoo held up a finger. She pointed it at the doorway. "Leave."

Mousse realized he had gone too far. He left, wondering how tempting chocolates and candied oranges would be to someone who watched her figure so carefully. It wouldn't hurt to try.

Shampoo and Akane stared at each other.

"Gosh, Shampoo..." Akane was becoming contrite. "I'm sorry I wrecked your kitchen. I'll, um, pay for the damage, of course."

Shampoo had no respect for such soft schoolgirl tones. She admired berserker Akane much more. "Shut up. Shampoo should have stopped you, is what grandmother will say." She could almost hear it now. "Is true?" she asked, not wanting to hear the answer. "Ranma no want me _or_ you?"

"It's true." Akane ran a hand over her eyes.

"What's true, and what happened here?" Ukyo stepped cautiously through the kitchen's back door. "Mousse ordered these and said they should be delivered here," Ukyo said, holding out the takeout bag. She had been curious, and apparently rightly so, and had decided to make the delivery herself.

Ukyo shook the bag. "Come on, he already paid for them." She didn't normally hang around with Shampoo and Akane, except to try to gauge her standing against the competition. But, the competition was looking pretty sorry right now. "What's happening? Did Taro come through?"

"No, it was me."  
Ukyo raised her eyebrows. Akane was that powerful?

"What, did Ranma do something stupid again?"

Akane nodded. "He's in love with Ryoga."

Fear coursed through Ukyo, and she reached back reflexively to grip her spatula. If she hadn't seen them together that day, she might have laughed the statement off, but now she couldn't. "That can't be right," she protested anyway. "It must be that koi rod again." But, she had observed Ranma and Ryoga for a little while before she had come over. Ranma under the koi-rod had been completely insane with love, from what Ukyo had heard. The Ranma that she had observed at the restaurant had been happy and chatty, as carefree as when he was eating piles of Ukyo's made-with-_real_-love okonomiyaki.

Ukyo snapped the bag at the two girls. "Eat it," she growled, and Shampoo reached out and snatched the bag from her. "Maybe the two of you couldn't make him love you," Ukyo said fiercely, "but _I_ can be the more feminine than either of you. _I_ can win Ranma."

"Hah," Akane said. She didn't know why Ranma being in love with Ryoga should rankle her so much. She had Hiroshi, after all, and she and Ranma couldn't even make out for more than ten minutes. But maybe it did have to do with her femininity. Had she not been feminine enough to get Ranma to love her, as Ukyo was suggesting? Had she been so repulsive that he had turned to Ryoga instead? But what Ukyo was saying was reminding her – Ranma had not fallen for Ukyo even when Ukyo had forgone her cooking and acted the part of the submissive wife perfectly, being even more subservient and pandering than a caricature of Kasumi. "You already tried that, Ukyo," she said tiredly. "Maybe you should try your guy outfit instead."

"I can't believe my Ran-chan would swing that way," Ukyo said, distressed.

Akane shook her head. "Believe it already."

Shampoo had opted out of the conversation. "Is good," she said, chewing on a bite of okonomiyaki. "Never eaten it before." She tossed the bag to Akane.

Ukyo sat in the doorway and accepted the bag when Akane threw it to her. She had cooked hundreds of okonomiyaki for Ranma, not including those that she had hurled into the sea while thinking of him. "Well, he's not getting any more, that's for sure," she said out loud. "Not for free, anyway." She took a bite. Her okonomiyaki _was_ good. The smell of the ramen was enhancing it. Maybe she should try that as a topping...after she'd had a good cry about Ranma, anyway.

The girls sat chewing on their okonomiyaki in silence as the ramen congealed on the floor.


	9. Chapter 9, redone

A/N: I'm redoing chapters 9 and 10. I was sincerely trying to limit the plot turns but it seems I just keep creating more of them. I'll keep the old chapters up. Comments are welcome, as always. This chapter has a lot of the old chapter 9 in it interspersed with some new scenes.

By the way, I have no idea how the postal system works in Japan. So the flag on the mailbox and everything - well, if you know, let me know.

Apologies to Mousse/Shampoo pairing lovers.

Akane gave Hiroshi a quick kiss. "Thanks for walking me home."

Hiroshi tilted his head questioningly towards the lit doorway, all the way down the walk.

Akane shook her head. "They'll see you."

A summer storm gathered in Hiroshi's brows, sudden and unexpected, but it passed just as quickly. "Good night, Akane-chan." He smiled to show that he wasn't really upset, and left whistling down the sidewalk.

"See what?" Nabiki stepped out of the shadows and held her sister with a sardonic raise of her eyebrow. "See Hiroshi-kun?"

"Hello, Nabiki-oneechan," Akane muttered, trying to see if there was a good way to brush past Nabiki. Actually, there was a person behind Nabiki. "Kasumi-oneechan..."  
"Akane-chan, we have something quite serious to tell you."

Akane's annoyance vanished, her heart plummeting to her stomach in icy dread. "Ranma?" she whispered.

* * *

Ranma opened his eyes and blinked painfully into an expanse of light. The tea alone wouldn't have knocked him out for this long, but he felt the back of his neck and around his arms, and sure enough, there were panda claw scratches around his pressure points. He rolled on his side. Beams of sunlight were pouring in through the sliding door. The smaller guestroom had once been an exercise room, and opened into the courtyard...in which Ryoga was standing at the moment, doing tai chi with his eyes closed.

Ryoga.

_I wanna be a girl_, Ranma's body urged him. _Splash me with water, and I'll say, 'oh, Ryooooga!' That'll scare the pants off of him!_

Ranma ignored the voice. He sat up slowly and looked around for his clothes. The white garments were nowhere to be found. They were probably safely stowed away in his mother's traveling bag, where he had found them. She brought them everywhere with her, along with the pair of tantos, even for the few blocks' trip to the Tendo dojo.

Ranma's pants and shirt were folded on top of a dresser, along with a thoughtful glass of water. However, as soon as Ranma rose to retrieve them, the noise alerted Ryoga.

"Ranma!"

Ranma yanked the clothes off of the dresser, sending the glass flying predictably into the air.

These had to be trick glasses. Ranma could balance a kettle of soup on the tip of a katana, yet somehow, _somehow_, all of these glasses of water just kept evading his grasp?

Ranma lashed out with his shirt and snapped the glass away.

Ryoga dove for the glass and caught it before it could smash on the ground. "Ranma!" he panted again, setting the glass just inside the doorway. There hadn't been enough water left to turn him into a pig. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, Ryoga, thanks." Ranma pulled his pants on, then his shirt. He stomach curdled with the same dismay that he'd felt before breaking up with 'Akira.' _He looks so happy, but I've got to do it now._ "Ryoga, bud, I may have said some things today –"

"Yesterday," Ryoga corrected.

Ranma frowned. "You been here all night?" He held up a hand. He already knew the answer, and didn't want to hear it. "Anyway –" Ryoga had on such a hopeful face. Had Ranma ever seen him look so undepressed? _Yeah, when I thought he was Akira, or when I thought he thought I was someone else._

"Ranma – I'm so glad you're up."

_He's gonna touch me.  
_"Your mother destroyed the contract by accident."

"I saw." Did Ryoga think that changed anything?

"She doesn't remember what it said. She's not going to enforce it. Ranma, do you know what this means?"

Ranma slithered away from the reaching fingers. "It means nothing," he said coldly. "Mother may not remember the terms of the contract, but _I_ do." He pushed Ryoga roughly. "Now I want _you_ to remember something, porkchop."  
Ryoga fell back, hurt and dread warring for position on his face.

Ranma continued without mercy. "Ryoga, I am a _guy_. It was fun playing tricks on you, and thanks for all the ice cream, by the way, but anything else you might have thought –forget it."

"But...Ranma..."

"You're a damn good sparring partner, but you are _not_ my boyfriend. I am _not_ your girlfriend. I am _not a girl_."

"Ranma – that's okay. I love you anyway."  
Ranma knew that, too. Of course he did. Even his guy body wanted the embrace he knew he could get. All he had to do was step forward.

Ranma took a step back. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that, bacon-boy." He felt the chill that he had perfected biting at his soul. "You've got three seconds to leave before I hiryuu-shoten-ha you out the door, and believe me, I don't want to do that in the Tendos' dojo. Get moving. One...two..."

Ryoga grabbed his backpack from the steps. "This isn't goodbye."

"Thr—"

Ryoga took off at a run.

* * *

There was a knock on the door. "Ready to go, Akane?"

Akane started and flipped the magazine shut. She had half been expecting the appointed time to come and go without event. She had been astounded when Ranma had asked her out earlier in the day, almost as soon as he'd emerged from the guest room. She found it absurd that the same action might have elicited a suspicious or caustic response from her just a week before. Given the horror of yesterday, she had agreed without hesitation; whatever Ranma wanted, he was going to get.

Akane hopped off of her bed, gave her yellow dress an uncertain tug and opened the door shyly. She gasped. "Daisies?"

"Sure, for a sweet girl like you."

Akane accepted the pot of daisies in bewilderment. "Um, that's really...nice of you, Ranma." She shoved aside her makeup collection and set it on her dresser. "All right, um, shall we go?" _Ranma, where is the real you?_

Ranma offered her his arm. "I have a treat," he said. "I know this great okonomiyaki place."

"Uh...you mean, Ucchan's?" Akane asked with trepidation, slipping her hand cautiously inside Ranma's elbow.

"Yeah," Ranma answered. "Don't worry, Akane, Ucchan's not going to give us any trouble."

* * *

Akane fidgeted in her chair as Ukyo glared daggers at her. And why was Shampoo eating here, too? Didn't she have a restaurant of her own to mind?

The chef made a special point to serve their okonomiyaki herself, and as Ranma bent his head over his plate, Ukyo leaned towards Akane and hissed in her ear, "_Ryoga_, huh?"

Akane shook her head, unable to respond.

"Looks like you were wrong, _sugar_."

"Wrong about what?" Ranma asked innocently, but his brows were creased. "Hey. Ucchan. I've got something for you."

Ukyo's eyes went round in an expression that even Akane had to admit was pretty cute. She bounced over to Ranma's side. "Yes, Ran-chan?"

Two tables over, Shampoo rose. She walked until she was a step or two back from Ranma and crossed her arms.

Akane scooted her chair a fraction back from the table. Shampoo had better not try anything.

Ranma reached into his shirt and pulled out an envelope. "Ucchan. For you."

Akane looked on with curiosity and a little jealousy as Ukyo ripped open the top. "Really, Ranma, you didn't have to get me anything," Ukyo chattered excitedly. "Is it a card? Is it –"  
Ukyo's face fell like the toppings off of a raw okonomiyaki. Shampoo and Akane both craned their necks, and Akane caught a glimpse of the paper. It was a cashier's check.

"For your dad's cart, plus interest. Nabiki figured it for me. It turns out I'd saved up enough." Ranma held a second envelope out to Shampoo, who took it by the very corner as thought it might bite. "For that feast I ate. Plus interest. Kill me or take the check – either way you ain't gonna marry me."

Shampoo shook the envelope as though she couldn't figure out how to drop it. "Airen?" she asked, disbelieving tears welling up in her eyes.

Akane, meanwhile, was staring at Ranma in shock.

"Sorry Ucchan, Shampoo. I just wanted to make it clear that Akane's the girl I'm going to marry. Would you mind leaving the two of us alone for a while?"

Ukyo's blood roared through her ears. It was unbelievably coarse. Ranma was paying them off. But then, what could he do? What could they do? Ukyo's heart had been doing flip-flops for the past several years: I hate him – I love him – he loves Akane – he loves Shampoo- he loves Ryoga. Her heart had nearly accepted its defeat the other day, but it had leapt back into action tonight, seeing Ranma and Akane walk in together. She had been prepared to make a scene over how Akane had lied to her, her own observations of Ranma and 'Akira' notwithstanding. This new development, though, this _offer_ of Ranma's, was one blow too many.

Ukyo's business mind was telling her to cut her losses. She could buy a better grill top with this money, and do some much-needed renovation to the kitchen and to the outside of the shop. She could have a new awning, and a splashier sign. She looked at Ranma and read nothing but resolve on his face. Maybe there was some pity there, too.

Ukyo didn't want to see it. Could they plan some more exploding okonomiyaki to throw at Akane? Been there, done that, hadn't worked. And this new, direct Ranma, whoever he was, would probably never talk to Ukyo again.

Ukyo glanced at Shampoo, who was standing stock-still, her lower lip trembling. Suddenly, the Amazon shook herself, her purple hair twitching, and straightened up. She gave Ranma a cool look. "Thank you," she said formally. She turned around very slowly and began walking away, elegant and composed.

Ukyo looked to see how Ranma was taking this, but Ranma had already turned back to Akane, and wasn't even paying attention to his one-time fiancee's exit.

"Later, Ranchan," Ukyo muttered, and scurried back toward the kitchen before her customers could see her cry.

* * *

Akane stared at Ranma. Had he really just- Had she really seen- Did he really mean-?

"_Ranma?_"

Ranma smiled at her and reached out to take her hand. "I love you, Akane."

Akane knew she must look like a fool with her mouth hanging open.

"And I have something for you, too." He pulled out a small box.

"Is that – another one of your mother's pillboxes?" Akane asked, her throat dry. Auntie Saotome had given her a pillbox that looked exactly like a ring box, for the Anything-Goes-mayhem-produced headaches that Saotome women had to endure. She was praying that it _was_, and that Ranma would laugh as he showed her how to pop off the fake top. She had _seen_ Ranma fly at Ryoga, crazed with rage and fatigue, during that last fight in the yard. She had _heard_ him shriek those damning words with as much despair and fury as any woman scorned. _This can't be happening. Ranma loves Ryoga. He knows he does. He knows I know he does. He knows we all do. So what is he doing now?_

"Akane..."

_ Here it comes..._

"Will you marry me?"

* * *

Genma lay on his back, panting, as Nodoka ran a hand lazily over his chest.

"Genma-san, is there anything...interesting...you'd like to tell me about Ranma?"

Genma had been about to drift off to sleep, but now his mind snapped to full-alert. "Why, Nodo-san, what do you mean?"

"Oh, Genma, you crafty panda bear." Nodoka gave a tinkling laugh that Genma found quite frightening. "I mean that you have spent ten more years with Ranma than I have. Surely you know him a little better than I do."

"Er...yes, dear, I suppose so..."

"So if I have noticed something...interesting...then no doubt you will have noticed it, too?"

Genma felt himself breaking out in fresh sweat. "Er...did you have something specific in mind, Nodoka-sweetheart?"

Nodoka smiled benignly and went in for the kill: "Genma-san, have you noticed that Ranma sometimes acts like a girl?"

Genma froze. "The boy is cursed, of course."  
"Oh, I don't mean that." Nodoka straightened a hair on Genma's chest. "I mean, not only does he have a girl's body, but he also sometimes acts like a girl." She giggled. "I think he may be in love with a boy."

If Genma had been Soun, he might have already run off howling. Genma looked anxiously at Nodoka, but one hand was propping her up on her side, and the other was on his chest. The katana was nowhere to be seen. He answered cautiously. "What makes you say that, Nodoka-san?"

"Oh, this and that." Her face turned serious. "We must speak with Tendo-san, of course. If Ranma is in love with a boy, he can't possibly marry one of the Tendo girls. Not even Kasumi," Nodoka sighed sadly. She gazed adoringly up at her husband's nose hairs. "Genma-san, you _will_ speak with Tendo-san, _won't you?_"

* * *

Nabiki had the picture poised in one hand. The other was suspended above her calculator, but her manicured fingernails refused to fall.

Nabiki felt utterly sick.

Nabiki had been brooding over this picture for hours. The pinhole camera had not caught Ranma and Ryoga kissing, as she thought it might. Instead, it had captured something even better: two people in that moment before they kiss. Ryoga's expression was tender and entreating, his hands outstretched; Ranma's body, even his pigtail, was leaning forward. His eyes were clear and wide, and his lips slightly parted in a way that made even Nabiki tingle.

The problem with the picture, and the reason that Nabiki felt sick, was that the series of pictures after it told the rest of the story: Ranma stepping back; Ranma affecting a coldness that Nabiki could see through perfectly; Ryoga leaving; and Ranma looking absolutely devastated.

So, in effect, what Nabiki had captured was heartbreak.

Nabiki wasn't completely disgusted with herself. She hadn't put that glass of water there; Auntie Nodoka had done that. She hadn't put the camera there, either, at least not yesterday or today. It was simply always in the guest room, and she had just been going through the pictures it took routinely. Shouldn't she feel free to deal with this picture as she usually did?

If the glass of water had splashed Ranma, Nabiki would have sold the picture to Kuno. Since it hadn't, she had been planning to crop Ryoga out of the picture and sell it to Kodachi.

It was such a good idea. Kodachi would be ecstatic over a picture like this. Why had Nabiki suddenly come down with a case of the morals? Had it been listening to Ryoga blather on in that bar like a fool in love? Had it been the shock of seeing Ranma in his funeral clothes, solemnly offering to stab himself to death in front of his friends and family? Was it that sadness around the Tendo dojo that they couldn't place these past weeks, a feeling like they'd lost a sister somehow?

Whatever it was, Nabiki no longer felt justified in selling the picture. This wasn't Ranma's girl form putting on some show for her own kicks. This was Ranma's guy form, yearning for a kiss that he would literally die before allowing himself to take.

Nabiki slammed open her desk drawer, slapped the picture inside, and shut the drawer with a bang, breathing hard. She hated to lose a profit.

To calm herself, Nabiki took a fresh stack of photos out of a side drawer. Ah, Akane was looking quite beautiful in her new dress. Gosunkugi and the underclassmen would pay a small fortune for these...

"_Ranma, NO!_"

Akane never screamed quite like _that_! Nabiki neither righted her chair nor locked the door behind her. She might not be any good in a fight, but she could dial a phone with the best of them.

* * *

Akane could feel her eyes growing wide. "Ranma," she rasped. "I don't know what to say."

The cocky grin never wavered. "Say you'll marry me, sweetheart."

_What in the world? Ranma doesn't talk like this!_

"I've got – I've got – I've got to go to the bathroom!" Akane blurted out, nearly knocking over her chair in her haste to get up.

"I'll be here, babe," Ranma said casually, and began to eat.

Akane stumbled through the back hallway by the kitchen. She caught a glimpse of a trim figure in a sturdy blue smock. "Ukyo!"

The chef spun around, her features set in sharp lines like the blades of her spatulas. "What could you possibly have to say to me now?" But Ukyo, despite her words, was spoiling for a fight. She pressed the sauce brush she'd been holding into Konatsu's hand and advanced on Akane. Konatsu glanced at the two of them and then at the dinner-rush crowd, and helplessly began to tend the okonomiyaki.

"Ukyo!" Akane's voice came out as a squeak as she retreated down the hall and nearly out through the back door.

"I almost believed you!" Ukyo cried in as quiet a voice as her contempt could manage, her hands balled into fists. Her pulled-back hair was wet near her temples and forehead, as though she'd been washing her face in a hurry. "All those – those _lies_ about Ranchan and Ryoga!"

"I'm _not_ a liar," Akane shot back, straightening up. "Why would I lie about that? Ranma and _Ryoga?_ And then come to _your_ restaurant with Ranma on a date, where you could _see_ us? Doesn't that sound kind of stupid to you?"

"Well, you'd do it to gloat, of course!" Ukyo felt her certainty waver as she spoke the words. Was it Akane who was more likely to gloat, or was it Ukyo herself? "Or to- to get me back for...ruining your wedding." Ukyo's voice dropped suddenly, and she felt a blush suffuse her cheeks. That had been such a juvenile thing to do, and a waste of okonomiyaki flour to boot. And Ranma was _still_ with Akane.

"Well, maybe I'm glad you ruined it after all."

Akane's voice was soft. Ukyo ran the syllables back through her head twice to make sure she'd heard them correctly. She felt lightheaded, as though she'd inhaled fumes from her latest beer-broiled okonomiyaki. "Wait – what?"

"Ukyo, I don't want to marry Ranma. Not anymore. He's in love with Ryoga."

Ukyo stared at Akane. Akane was leaning carefully against the doorframe, conscious not to spoil the fabric of what was undeniably a very flattering dress, and twining her fingers together. Looking at Akane now, one would never believe how she'd utterly mauled Shampoo's kitchen the night before.

_I'd like to have been a girl_, Ukyo thought briefly. Ukyo felt some days as though she'd gone straight from being a boy to being a woman. She might have treated herself to a kimono once in a while, but there was no room in her life for little cotton sundresses. Her more feminine outfits were worn for one strategic purpose only: to attract Ranma. She could never _lounge_ in a dress quite like Akane could.

"Then what's this all about tonight?" Ukyo asked, her throat squeezing behind the words.

"I don't know. It was Ranma's idea." Akane stopped twisting her fingers and looked up anxiously. "He's not himself."

Ukyo glanced back down the hall, to where she could almost make out a black pigtail in the dining room. _Let them have each other!_ her mind scoffed, slapping her heart bracingly. _You have your own business._

"He asked me to marry him."

"What?" Ukyo's attention swung back to Akane, her eyes burning suddenly from freshly cut onions. "And?"

"I came back here." Akane's dark eyes looked into hers. "I love Ranma," she said simply. "Not like that, not to marry him, but I don't know what to do. I don't know how to turn him down, not after-" she inhaled sharply.

"Not after _what_?" Ukyo strained to hear Akane's hesitant whisper over the hiss of the griddles. _No, that couldn't have been what she said, could it?_ "Tell me you didn't just say..." _Not Ran-chan. Please, no._

Akane's expression confirmed the worst. Ukyo gazed back down the hallway. "But he looks so...happy...right now."

Akane shook her head. "It's some kind of an act, I'm sure of it. But I can't turn him down, because I'm afraid he'll take it, um, badly."

Ukyo wondered if her heart had actually stopped, it gave up the fight that quickly. Ranma and Ryoga, or Ranma and death – there was no choice. If Ranma loved Ryoga, Ukyo was going to go throw some more okonomiyaki into the ocean, cry her eyes out in private, and let them be. She put out a hand to lean against the stippled white wall of her store, painted handsomely even this far back in the hallway, and stopped to straighten the framed Restaurant of the Year award that someone waiting for the restroom might just happen to read. "Hon," she sighed, "just stall for time. Bat your eyelashes or something and say you need to wait." She pushed off of the wall. Did Akane deserve any more than that? "Good luck," she mumbled, and walked back into the gleaming stainless steel embrace of her real love.

Ukyo watched Akane sit back down at the table and begin talking. She noted with a twinge just how handsome Ranma looked, nodding pleasantly, taking Akane's hand tenderly, and obviously saying something like, "Take all the time you need." Ukyo paused in her reflection. Akane was right; Ranma was acting the way Ukyo and Akane might have dreamed he would act, but he certainly wasn't acting like _Ranma_. _If Ryoga's done something to Ranma-honey, I'll put a stop to that!_ Ukyo thought with swift, fierce concern, and flipped a round of dough off the griddle with one clean stroke.

* * *

Shampoo swung her two chui furiously, but her great-grandmother hopped nimbly out of the way and, sliding her cane into a gap between the weapons, poked Shampoo bruisingly in the chest.

"Shampoo is not concentrating tonight."

Shampoo was a warrior, and a warrior did not indulge in tantrums, but Shampoo allowed herself to let her maces fall with just enough force that it might have been considered a "fling." She yanked Ranma's letter out of the crossover V in her tight purple shirt. "This is for us," she said, in perfect and deliberate Japanese. "Ranma gave it to us."

Cologne raised her eyebrows and opened the letter with one long, yellowed fingernail. She looked up just in time to see Shampoo snatch up one of her chui and pitch it at a retreating Mousse, but decided to ignore that.

A not insignificant part of Cologne regretted that Ranma ever had to grow up. At sixteen he had cared only for learning the next new technique, increasing his strength, and beating his rivals. She had tried to teach him as much as she could in what she knew was a fleeting time frame. Never again could he pursue the Art so single-mindedly, without distraction. At the time, Cologne had told herself that she was only building up Ranma's skill in order to make him useful to the tribe. This was believable, of course, since a skilled male would become a better teacher to the children at home. But, what Amazon male needed to know so many secret techniques? The real reason that she had been training him, Cologne knew, was that Ranma was an ideal student. He possessed both the raw talent and the stubborn determination necessary to excel. He could see a technique once and understand it, and then he would work as hard as he could to master it. Shampoo was an excellent warrior, but Ranma had really allowed Cologne's pedagogical skills to shine. And now, Ranma had found love.

Happosai had known this, of course, and when the old freak had appeared bearing the news, he had been awash with glee. _The lecher, contemplating love,_ Cologne thought almost fondly._ He was never as interested in training Ranma as I._ Ranma could continue to improve, of course, but that phenomenal learning curve might never be achieved again. And that was the way of the world.

Cologne sighed and slipped the envelope into her robes. "Does he think a check will erase thousands of years of our tribes' traditions?" She watched Shampoo carefully.

Shampoo's face was carefully blank. "The Kiss of Marriage must be fulfilled," she said.

Again, there was that precise Japanese. If Cologne had known that heartbreak would improve Shampoo's Japanese so much, she might have...have what? The only reason Shampoo was learning Japanese was for Ranma.

Cologne waited patiently.

"And the Kiss of Death must also be fulfilled," Shampoo finished.

"But Ranma is a male," Cologne pointed out. "His mind is male. His female body is only a form."

"It is not just a form. He loves Ryoga." Shampoo's lips trembled just once and went firm. "So Ranma is both."

Shampoo lifted her leg into a vertical stretch. Cologne watched the lithe, effortless motion with approval. It was a vulnerable pose, one that invited attack, but Cologne felt that they had entered that special conversational space between women. Shampoo might as well improve her flexibility while they spoke.

"Great-grandmother, I gave Ranma the Kiss of Death, and I consider it fulfilled. As for the Kiss of Marriage..." Shampoo shrugged expansively and let her leg drift languorously to the ground, and then as aimlessly behind her and up, up, up.

Cologne felt a swell of pride. Her great-granddaughter was growing up, too. She had shed no tears and made no fuss.

Cologne was not apt to press the issue, either. Ranma was a force unto himself. Cologne would have been pleased to see him court and win Shampoo, but his spirit was too strong to be brought to the village for any reason other than his own volition, and too independent to be kept there for any reason other than love. Cologne had kept training Ranma long after she had thought he would become her son-in-law. She had kept hoping, of course, because young hearts were notoriously fickle, but she was not surprised. If Ranma had been another, similar man, but without his curse, there were other loopholes out of Amazon law...a bad marriage was good for no one in the village.

Cologne hid her approval and tossed Shampoo a bag of trash. The Tendo girl had done a number on their kitchen. "Take this to the front. Garbage day is tomorrow."

* * *

"But the dojos! They must be joined!" Soun sobbed heavily, pausing every now and then to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his gi.

"With all due respect, Tendo-san," Genma protested, "your dojo's advanced level is all material that Ranma had mastered by age ten. Joining the dojos will not help us defeat the master."

"My style is not _weak!_" Soun let forth a fresh flood of tears. He tried to enlarge his head into a flaming demon, but even that started weeping, and deflated pathetically.

Genma handed Soun another cup of sake. "There, there, it's fine for what it is. Pays the bills and all. But we wanted to join our schools in order to defeat the master. I think it would be better if your school stayed uninvolved at all. The master will not target it on its own."  
"But my girls! They will be penniless_ spinsters!_"

"Now, now. Kasumi-chan may marry a doctor, Nabiki-chan will hardly be penniless, and Akane-chan has always had suitors in school..."

"What! Akane-chan is falling prey to men! She must be married before she is spoiled forever!"

Genma backpedaled in alarm. "I mean, Akane-chan is virtuous and, um, energetic. She is sure to make a good match for some boy."  
"I thought at least one of my girls would be spoken for. I thought that a father's worry would be lifted for me for one of my darling daughters, at least! And now I find that even that hope has been dashed for my soul!"

"Tendo-san ," Genma pleaded, "if the boy were acting like a boy, he _would_ marry one of your daughters. But, since he acts like a girl, it doesn't make sense. If Nodoka-san and I had had a daughter, would you have wanted her to marry one of your daughters? Of course not."

Soun gulped noisily. "I need – another drink-"

The door banged open, and to Genma's surprise, Ranma sauntered. He tugged Akane through the doorway.

Soun swayed and blinked hazily at Genma. "The boy doesn't _look_ like he's acting like a girl."

Ranma grinned. "Yo, Pops, what's up? Akane'n I'll be out back." He curled an arm around Akane's waist, and she jumped.

Genma couldn't move, but Soun leapt up, sloshing sake everywhere. "My daughter!" he cried, tears sparkling on his cheeks. "Your son! Almost married at last!"

* * *

Ranma didn't let Akane's father exclaim over them for long. He dragged Akane straight through the parlor and out the other side, around to the dojo.

"Yo, tomboy, wanna spar?"

What, spar? With Ranma?

"You mean _really_ spar?" Akane asked, not daring to hope. "Not just you dodging me?"

"Sure," Ranma said easily, stripping off his button-down shirt to reveal his black tank top underneath.

"But my dress – I've got to get changed –"

"Go ahead."  
Akane raced to the furo and lifted this morning's gi out of the hamper, where it had been resting on top. There was no time to waste going upstairs for a fresh one. She inched the zipper on her dress down as fast as she could and threw the gi on, tying the flaps shut but not bothering to look for a belt. She draped her precious dress over a towel bar and ran back outside.

Ranma was still waiting.

"Okay, Tendo, let's see what you've got."

Seeing Ranma coming towards her in an attack, even though he was moving at a small fraction of his normal speed, was so foreign to Akane that she couldn't move. His first punch clipped her shoulder, and he pulled the others back. "Come on, tomboy, block."

"O-okay." _He actually _hit _me?_ Akane's mind was racing, but her limbs felt like they were pulling through butter.

"What's the matter, Akane? There's nothing to be afraid of."

_Move, Akane!_ Akane screamed inwardly at herself. _This is what you've been waiting for for years!_

Akane began a timid counterattack.

Ranma gave Akane a smile that nearly turned her into a gelatin wreck again. "Atta girl."

_I have to start fighting like I mean it, or he won't ever spar with me again!_ But, Akane was having a difficult time thinking of something that made her angry. Today was going along just perfectly. _Do something! Anything! Pretend he's someone else. Pretend he's Ryoga!_

Akane screamed and charged.

Ranma grinned even wider, and met her attack head on.

* * *

Akane finally admitted to herself that if she ever wanted to take more than two deep breaths together again, she would have to call it quits. "Ranma," she panted, "I've got to stop."

Ranma wound down his attack pattern, throwing a few kicks at the air beside him, and his posture relaxed. "Take a break, or call it a night?"

Oh...she was allowed to take breaks? "Let's call it a night," Akane gasped, stretching out her hamstring as her mind tried to catch up with everything that had just happened. Sparring with Ranma was – wow. Akane had never fought like that in her life. She could feel her technique improving. Ranma's teaching style was definitely hands-on and one-on-one.

Akane walked over to where Ranma was stretching at a tree. "Ranma," she began shyly. "Thanks."

Ranma's eyes were luminous in the setting sun. "We're not done yet," he said in a low voice.

Akane felt her knees wobble. "What?"

Ranma stood up fully, pressed Akane to the tree, and kissed her on the lips.

Akane opened her eyes in astonishment as Ranma broke off the kiss. What had happened to the awkwardness between them, just a few days ago?

Ranma bared his teeth at her. "Like it?"

And why did Ranma keep grinning and baring his teeth? And why was he being so sweet to her? Flowers? A _date?_ A _ring?_ _Sparring?_

The thought hit her, and the enormity of it nearly made her vision cloud. "Ranma – I –" Ranma's head was approaching hers again. _This isn't right._ _"Ranma, NO!"_

A brief flash in Ranma's eyes might have been pain, but he smiled. "No?"

Akane pushed at Ranma's arm and he moved it out of the way, allowing Akane to slide out from between him and the tree. "I'm – I'm sorry! Ranma, it's been – it's been a great night – yes, it's been great – thanks for the – dinner – it was nice – sparring with you - I'll see you - Good night, Ranma!" Akane said, her heart pounding, and she could hear him start to whistle as she raced away.

* * *

Akane bumped straight into someone, and long fingers clamped around her wrist.

"Akane, are you all right?"

Akane bounced off of the wall in shock. "_Nabiki?_"

Nabiki let Akane's wrist go and frowned down her nose. "I'm allowed to be concerned for my baby sis." She looked searchingly at Akane, sweaty in her rumpled gi. "Did he - hurt you?"

"No! No, we were...sparring..." Akane's eyes glowed briefly but then became anxious again. "Nabiki, there's something I've got to tell _someone_, or-"

Nabiki silenced Akane with a flick of her hand. Akane followed Nabiki up the stairs and into her bedroom.

Both girls started to see Kasumi already there, sitting on the bed, but Nabiki didn't miss a beat, and shut the door firmly. She strode over to the open window and shut it as well, pulling the shade down.

"What is it, Akane?"

Akane lifted up Nabiki's toppled chair and slumped into it.

Nabiki narrowed her eyes and perched in her second-favorite chair. "Well?"

"He's pretending he's Ryoga," Akane said flatly. "And he's pretending I'm him."

"Oh, my." Kasumi put a hand to her mouth.

Akane gave her a wan smile. "He asked me to marry him tonight."

"You can't do that!" Nabiki said forcefully, and then had to blink a few times in confusion.

"I know I can't," Akane said, looking at Nabiki strangely. She tapped her fingers against Nabiki's desk. "I told him I needed more time. But I can't keep on stalling forever. I don't understand!" she burst out. "Why do this now? We all know he loves Ryoga."

"Maybe we are reaching the wrong conclusion," Kasumi said dubiously. "Perhaps Ranma wants to marry you after all?"

Nabiki's eyes flashed. She lunged past Akane, whose martial arts reflexes had her teetering in the chair at a forty-five degree angle, and grabbed the photograph from her desk drawer. She brandished the picture at Kasumi. "'Neechan, _look_ at this. Just _look_ at it."

"Oh, my."

"_Now_ tell me we're wrong."

"Gosh." Akane had settled the chair again and looked at the picture. "That's an awfully good picture of them."

"Isn't it," Nabiki said crossly, wondering why she was getting so emotional over Ranma and his little love.

"We'll think of something, Akane-chan," Kasumi said soothingly, though her lips were pursed slightly in thought. "In the meantime...perhaps it is best if you..."

"Play along?" Nabiki suggested, tossing the picture back onto her desk.

Kasumi nodded. "Yes, thank you, Nabiki-chan."

Akane sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that. It's so strange. It was everything I'd dreamed of. If it had been months ago, it would have been perfect. We even _sparred_. But it wasn't for me." She twirled around in Nabiki's chair. "Why can't he ever just want to spar with _me_?"

Nabiki shrugged. "Ranma's changing. Maybe he will, later. But I think Kasumi's right. Let him keep pretending, for now." She smiled. "Daddy's probably really pleased, don't you think?"

* * *

Akane sagged against the front stoop. After days of marathon sparring sessions, she had been all too ready to enlist Hiroshi in secret plan get-Ranma-away-from-me, and the two were now out watching some disgusting movie about aliens and trolls taking over the world in a wash of blood.

For days, Akane had been acting exactly as she thought an appreciative Ranma might. This meant being witty, and cheerful, and exhaustingly _game_ about everything, including the strangest martial arts techniques. She felt so silly yelling things like "Gym Sock Attack" into the wind, but she did it, because that's what Ranma would have done with Ryoga. She did everything but kiss; those situations she fended off as desperately as she'd ever avoided Kuno's advances, and she couldn't help but be amused at the irony of the situation. If Ranma had acted like this a year ago, they would totally be married right now. She could sense that Ranma knew things weren't quite right, but he seemed content enough to play his own part.

They were not alone in their acting, it seemed: Kasumi smiled and said she was happy Ranma was looking better, but she burned the rice an awful lot. Akane had caught Nabiki snapping at Kuno over the phone, telling him to forget the pigtailed goddess already. Uncle Saotome kept losing at shogi to Akane's father, of all people. It was difficult to tell about Auntie Saotome, but she didn't hum when she walked any more, and her sudden and total apathy towards her stock of power tools looked like a sign of depression. The only person who seemed genuinely cheerful was Akane's father, who was coming up the walk right now.

"Akane-chan!" Soun exclaimed genially. "How is my engaged daughter today?"

Akane wriggled herself upright with an effort. "Fine, Daddy." Her father had just emptied the mailbox and was shuffling through the contents. One of the envelopes caught his eye, and he took a ballpoint pen from behind his ear and scribbled on the envelope hastily.

"Wrong name," Akane's father said by way of explanation, turning smartly and popping the letter back into the mailbox. He raised the little red flag to signal to the mailman that there was a letter to pick up. He came back up the walk and nodded with satisfaction at Akane. "And how is your fiance doing?" Soun looked around. "Not around today?"

"No, Daddy, he's out with a friend. A guy friend," Akane added wearily, seeing her father's upraised finger, and his mouth open to lecture her on her duty to not let her fiance go astray.

_Of course, Ranma isn't necessarily "safe" with certain guy friends, either_, Akane thought to in her father's direction, once she had exhausted her repertoire of engagement small-talk with her father, and he had gone inside. After days of receiving the attention that she knew Ranma wished Ryoga were showering on him, Akane knew that Ranma wanted Ryoga to spend _a lot_ of time with him - and to kiss him a lot.

The thought of Ryoga made Akane's mind squirm with embarrassment. Ryoga and Ranma? If she hadn't been living the part, she would have kept on denying it. They were both guys, for goodness' sake. Wasn't there something wrong with that?

Although Akane would only admit it to her secret self, a part of her wished she could slap Ranma around some and tell him just how sick and perverted he was to be thinking about dating Ryoga. "You're a guy! You must be crazy!"

It was no longer acceptable to hit Ranma, though. Akane could almost see in her mind's eye: _Why did you hit him this time?_ Hiroshi would say, his eyes growing cold. _Your anger does not impress me._

That line had become Akane's mantra through this trying week. She hadn't even hit Ryoga, though when she had first found out he was P-chan, she'd thought he richly deserved it. Now, however, she was proud that she had kept her temper.

Akane had been livid when Ryoga had declared that he'd done nothing wrong. It should have been up to Akane to decide that! On the other hand, after some reflection, Akane had arrived at the surprising conclusion that in fact Ryoga had compromised Akane's integrity neither physically nor emotionally.

This was slightly disappointing, because for once Akane had every socially acceptable reason to clobber someone. However, it was true: Ryoga had looked away when Akane had changed, which was a surprising behavior in a piglet, but one which Akane had never questioned before. He had obviously never turned into human form around her. And, not the least importantly, he had not allowed her to say anything that she would have regretted having shared. Whenever she had been about to tell P-chan anything embarrassing, for instance, that she wished she could kiss Ranma, the little piglet would immediately start weeping, running around in circles, scratching to be let out of the room, or all three. Ryoga had been a pretty manly pig.

_If that's even possible._ Akane smiled to herself. Really, how could she have not known? She felt both insanely flattered and incredibly stupid. A boy had liked her enough to pretend to be her pet pig for years, just to be around her? That was flattering. The pig wore the same bandanna that she had only ever seen on Ryoga's head, and was only around when Ryoga wasn't, and had nodded staunchly whenever she had sobbed that Ranma was a jerk? She must have been blind.

So, Ryoga turned into a pig, and Ranma turned into a girl? When it came right down to it, those two weirdos were a good match for each other.

There was a noise behind her, and Akane looked up to see Kasumi poking her head through the screen door.

"Oh, good. Akane-chan, would you mind putting these in the mailbox for me?"

Akane nodded, and Kasumi handed her a stack of postcards wrapped in a rubber band. "Thank you." Kasumi disappeared back inside.

Akane hauled herself upright and thumbed through the postcards as she strolled towards the mailbox. They were all addressed to Ryoga, at different zip codes. They must have taken Kasumi at least an hour to prepare, and were costing a sizeable sum in postage. Kasumi had written the same lines neatly on each one: _Dear Ryoga-kun, Please return at your earliest convenience. Regards, Kasumi Tendo._

Akane opened the mailbox and was about to drop the postcards in when her eyes, sensitized to Ryoga's name, caught sight of something: the envelope that her father had rejected. The name on the return address was Ryoga Hibiki.

Akane balanced the postcards on top of the mailbox and withdrew the letter, her hand shaking. She knew a split second before she read it that the name her father had crossed out and replaced with Return to Sender would be Ranma Saotome. Her father had been entirely accurate; it _was_ the wrong name. While the Saotome family spent a lot of time at her house, they technically didn't live there. But, it was entirely possible that Ryoga had never seen the Saotome house, and didn't know where it was. That would explain why he was writing to Ranma, "care of Tendo Dojo."

_Well, Daddy was about to take 'care' of the letter, all right._

Akane felt her skin begin to heat up in that familiar way. She was about to storm through the door after her father when she heard Hiroshi's voice in her head, saying briskly, "'Kane-chan, do something constructive for a change."

Akane stopped in her tracks, trying to think of what the constructive thing to do would be.

* * *

Soun smiled down at the shogi board with satisfaction. It was no trouble figuring out what his next move should be, since Genma was playing so poorly. _Or I am playing better than I used to._

The world was looking brighter these days. Ranma and Akane were spending hours together each day, in peace and enjoyment. The schools would be united. The dojo would be secure.

Soun burned with impatience to have the wedding safely over and done with. He remembered his own youth, and couldn't understand why Ranma and Akane hadn't compromised themselves by now. Ranma's lovelorn friend had been writing to Ranma steadily, in an inky display that was more in line with Soun's notions of teenage love. Soun was feeling quite proud that he was nipping that complication in the bud. Ranma needed no distractions in his pursuit of Akane. On the other hand, the wild young stallion had certainly changed these past few days. The way he had been acting towards Akane lately, maybe the two of them _would_ be "married" before long. _It's about time._

Genma was still frowning over the board, so Soun decided he could split his attention for just a little while. "Kasumi-chan!" Soun called.

"Yes, Father?"

"How soon can the dry-cleaners have your sister's dress ready?"

"Oh." Kasumi came out of the kitchen, dusting some flour off of her hands. She clasped her hands behind her back. "About the dress, Father, Auntie Nodoka and I were discussing this. We think Akane should have a new dress."

"A new dress!" Never mind the expense; with all of the women flittering and nattering, it could take months for them to settle on a new dress. And – well, and the _expense!_

"Yes. Oh, and she's decided on a kimono."

"She already _has_ a kimono, too!"

"No, Father, that was Mother's kimono."

"So? Don't my girls like to dress up in their mother's things anymore?" Soun had a sudden image of his three girls draped in their mother's dresses, wobbling on her sandals. His wife was smiling at them, and looked up to smile at him. _She would be so proud to know that Akane-chan is getting married._

Kasumi caught her breath with the same memory, and wiped her face with the back of her hand, leaving a dusty white streak. "Yes, Father, of course. But." Kasumi paused, as though considering something.

"But?"

"But I am the eldest. It is my right to wear that kimono. Not Akane's."

Even Genma looked up at that statement.

Soun blinked at his eldest daughter in surprise. "Kasumi-chan, I had no idea you felt that way." He could already see the yen notes floating away to purchase a new dress for Akane. Kasumi was such a good girl. She asked for so little – for nothing, really, except for housekeeping money – that of course he ought to honor her wishes on this matter. "Very well, Kasumi-chan. If Akane-chan disagrees, have her talk to me." A happy thought occurred to him. "Is there some young man we should know about?" he asked hopefully.

Kasumi smiled. "Not yet, Father, but I will tell you when there is."

Soun nodded. He would have been happy if there had been, but on the other hand, he didn't mind having Kasumi around to keep house. Let Akane and Nabiki get married first. "All right. When will you be buying this new kimono?"

Kasumi smiled again. "Saotome-sama and I are making it. Don't worry, Father, we think it will turn out well."

"Soun, it's your turn," Genma growled.

Kasumi went back into the kitchen.

As Soun contemplated the board, an alarming thought occurred to him: Kasumi didn't own a sewing machine. Surely they wouldn't be sewing the kimono by hand?

* * *

"Later, Hiroshi."

It had been a great afternoon. It had been such a relief to just sit passively in the plush, air-conditioned splendor of the movie theater, and see large-scale destruction neatly tidied up, all problems solved, in the span of an hour and a half. It had been a relief to not have to be reminded every moment that he was not, in fact, Ryoga, and that Akane, unbelievably patient and good-tempered these days, was not Ranma. _That tomboy is a lot tougher than I ever gave her credit for._ This charade had to be tiring, maybe even hurtful, for her, too.

Ranma hated doing this to either of them, but he could see no alternative. He'd already tried what had seemed like the most honorable way out. Not only had he failed, but the tantos and the clothes, the whole kit-and-caboodle, were nowhere to be found, either in the Tendo household or here. Even now, as he poked furtively through his mother's closet with a long-handled spoon, there was no trace of them.

Ranma left the bedroom. He checked every closet in the hall and stepped over his mother's new recycled-rag-paper and reclaimed-steel lawn-ornament projects in the living room without a second glance, on his way to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Ranma flipped the spoon into the sink and began to make himself a tomato sandwich. He tossed a knife up in the air, catching it behind his back, moon-walking just for the fun of it. Sometimes it was great being alone. He lobbed the tomato into the air and the knife after it, springing to catch the knife before it fell. Zip, zip, zip – the tomato descended into even slices on the counter.

"Eat that, pig-brain."

The words sounded suddenly hollow in the kitchen.

"Ryoga."

Ranma tested the sound of the name.

"I love you, Ryoga," he said. He took out two plates, and made two sandwiches. "Here," he said to the empty kitchen. "This one's for you." He smiled at nothing. "Nah, it's not for Akane. What, are you jealous or somethin'?"

Wow, that was an all-time low.

Ranma ate one of the sandwiches, and stuck the untouched plate into the fridge. He stared at the kitchen clock, knowing that he was stalling. Akane would be expecting to train. That alone was okay, but he wasn't sure how long he could keep up his act. Akane wasn't him. He wasn't Ryoga. It was working, for now, and it was the only way he could pretend to be that happy at the prospect of marrying Akane, but it was probably taking every shred of his sanity as payment.

Ranma's ears perked up at the sound of a tuneless whistling and he dashed over to the front of his house.

* * *

Nodoka Saotome was in much better spirits now that her husband and son were back. Junichiro hefted his mail bag over his shoulder. He'd never believed the gossip that she'd been left high and dry, because he had been the one to deliver all of those postcards over the years. They had sure gone traveling, that father and son team.

Junichiro stopped by the mailbox and took a swig out of his water bottle, hoping that if he paused then he might catch a glimpse of the beautiful Mrs. Saotome and get a warm, "Uchida-san! Thank you!" as he handed her the mail. A light crunch of gravel behind him made him throw up his arms in a half-guilty startle, and when he looked again, a pretty young girl was standing on the sidewalk in front of the Saotome house, wringing out her dripping shirt.

"Awfully sorry, miss," Junichiro said.

"Oh, it's fine, fine," said the girl. Her breathless focus was trained on his mail bag. "Any letters for us?"

Now, Junichiro had delivered a lot of mail to this household over the years, and there had been a lot of correspondence for Nodoka, the mother; and Genma, the father; and school notices for Ranma, the son; but he had never seen anything for a daughter. Oh, well. It wasn't really any of his business. She was probably a niece. She must be related, as she was certainly the spitting image of Nodoka, although a little too...rough-looking?...for his taste, not to mention about three decades too young. She'd probably spent some time in the Tokyo, or even abroad.

Junichiro thumbed through the presorted letters in his packet, drew out the stack, and handed them to the girl.

The girl flipped through the letters quickly. "Junk...junk...junk," she muttered. "Are you sure there isn't anything else?" she asked, a little pathetically.

Junichiro had seen this story many times before. "Just you keep waiting, miss," he advised. "If the boy is worth his bowl of rice, he'll write to you. There's the telephone, too of course. We didn't always have that."

The girl didn't look convinced. They never did. And it was useless to mention the corollary, that if the boy didn't write, he wasn't worth it. No girl would listen to that. It was too bad, really; if Junichiro could have given one piece of advice to the younger male generation, it would be to write more. Some boy was missing out on the chance to have a splendid little girlfriend. Well, his sons always said he was a romantic.

Junichiro took one more look around for Nodoka, and decided he should be on his way. He gave the girl a nod as she sat dejectedly on the stoop, and continued on his route.

* * *

Shampoo ground Mousse's head into the dirt with her silk slipper and sighed. Everything was so tiresome lately. She looked at her reflection in the steam-pipe, and even being dressed head-to-toe in pink brocade didn't lift her spirits.

Shampoo stomped back into the kitchen. Mousse was getting to be a disaster. With Ranma out of the picture, he assumed that Shampoo would be his, and was doing his darnedest to make it so. He kept trying to challenge her, but he was afraid to hurt her, so she always won. _What a loser._

The Cat Cafe seemed unbearably dreary, and the smell – no, the stench- of too-salty soup base was getting on Shampoo's nerves. She paced restlessly, avoiding the scaffolding where the counter was being glued back together after Akane's attack. She wanted to see trees again, to be in a forest again, to go back home, where there weren't all of these _people_ and this _pavement_. She wished she'd never had that excess of hurt pride that had made her kiss Ranma, the Kiss of Death that had started this trip to Japan.

They'd never bothered to explain, either, that the Kiss of Death was a kind of figure of speech. Why slay a strange warrior when you can learn from her? The Kiss of Death was nearly the same thing as the Kiss of Marriage. It was only if the warrior failed to teach you her techniques that you killed her. Ranma was generous with his techniques, though few people could learn from them anyway. Shampoo smiled. _Such a show-off._

Shampoo flung herself into a snarling tiger form, based on Ranma's nekoken but without the loss of control. _Cat-fight_, she thought to herself smugly. By watching Ranma, she had picked up some very good ideas for moves in her cursed form.

The clock struck 8 in the morning, and Shampoo dropped her arms and donned an apron, hating the scratchy white fabric against her upper chest, the way it obscured her cleavage completely. She despised this drudgery. At home she had enjoyed cooking, but that was much different. That was the village getting together to steam hundreds of journey-cakes at a time, in their fragrant green leaves. That was roasting a wild boar on a spit and listening to the story of the lean, fearless huntress who had slain it. This was...noodles! Oodles and oodles of noodles! Shampoo laughed mirthlessly.

"Great-granddaughter, why are you laughing?" Cologne hopped into the kitchen on top of her cane. She had a small sack over her shoulder. "Take your apron off." The old woman hopped to the front of the store and used a dry-erase marker to print something on the sign in the door. "We're going on a training trip."

* * *

Junichiro began stuffing the mailbox dispassionately, ignoring the rope tied around it. They always had such a backlog of mail for the Hibiki residence since its occupants were gone so much of the time. The mailbox only fit so much mail, and then the rest had to be stored at the post office. Whenever someone _was_ home, then, they tried to jettison as much of the backlog as possible. Junichiro considered it a stroke of incredible luck that for two solid weeks someone had been at home. At this rate, they could take back almost an entire filing cabinet.

A chunk of identical envelopes caught Junichiro's eye. They were heavy-weight envelopes, of a serious kind. He ran his hand over the paper. It was a cream stationery of the sort that one rarely saw any more. Well. He supposed the Hibiki boy would be around twenty years old now, give or take a few years. That was quite an appropriate age to be receiving love letters.

Junichiro's practiced eye caught the "Return to Sender" scrawled across the front and, even though it was none of his business, eyed the intended address. Saotome! Not Nodoka, thankfully, but Ranma.

Well, this was certainly one of those fads of the modern day, boys writing love letters to boys. Junichiro had considered the possibility of a correspondence between brotherly friends, and dismissed it as soon as a quick fan of the letters revealed their postmarks. One didn't write this many letters in two weeks to a brotherly friend. It was too bad about that pretty Saotome girl. She would probably appreciate these letters from Ryoga Hibiki. But, apparently the boy liked her brother, so there was nothing to be done.

Now, it was none of his business, but upon further inspection, young Hibiki had gotten the address wrong. Didn't he know that the Saotome family lived only a few blocks away? Why should he write care of the Tendo dojo? No wonder these letters were being returned to him. Ranma Saotome had probably become some student of this Tendo dojo, one of several. Of course it wouldn't receive his mail for him.

Junichiro reached into his mail truck, which was parked at the curb here because a Hibiki delivery made up the bulk of a heavy mail bag. He would never dream of tampering with the mail in any way, shape, or form. Delivering it safely and securely was his mission in life, his solemn charge. However...no one actually read these junk mail fliers. They all looked alike, too. If he just happened to take one off of the bottom, which he knew was marked "Saotome Nodoka or Current Resident," instead of off the top, and just happened to mix it in with the Hibiki mail, well, that was fate, wasn't it?

* * *

Ryoga was sweating through his bandanna. He'd just cleaned out the fridge and the stove and was ready to haul the garbage to the curb. He heard the mail truck drive away. Using the walls, he made his way to the front door. With one hand, he gripped the rope connected to the front doorknob and closed his eyes. As long as he didn't open his eyes and second-guess himself, and as long as he kept holding onto the rope, he wouldn't get lost. It had taken him days to perfect this.

Ryoga's hand dragged along the rough fibers, and when he hit the mailbox, he stretched out his other arm as far to the right as it would go and dropped the garbage bags. Then he flipped a shopping bag off of his shoulder, groped around for the mailbox, and began shoveling mail into the bag.

_ I wonder if I'm supposed to be on the other side of this rope._

Ryoga squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and finished retrieving the mail.

_ Maybe if I let go of the rope and go East, I'll get back to the kitchen faster._

Ryoga clutched at the rope – and snapped it in two. Both ends of the break dropped away, Ryoga opened his eyes, spotted the rope ends on the ground, moved to take them, and promptly headed in the direction he thought was East.

* * *

Shampoo regarded the young man before her with horror and distaste. Who had to be reminded that his grandfather had died several days ago, and that he needed to bury the corpse? Who needed to be reminded every five minutes of the purpose for his digging?

Finally, the necessary depth was achieved. Shampoo heaved the canvas-covered body in, not bothering with any sort of speech, first of all because she would have had to say it in Japanese, and second of all because the boy wouldn't remember anyway. She grabbed the shovel and began covering the stinking corpse up.

A strong hand grabbed hers. "Hey," the boy said loudly and angrily. "You didn't let me say goodbye to him."  
"What for?" Shampoo asked back. "Forgetful boy just forget."

"You take that back!" He swatted the air in front of himself clumsily, as though he would have liked to hit her but couldn't bring himself to do it, and began to sob.

Mousse looked up from where he had been filling in the grave, and smiled at the boy's weakness.

Shampoo shook her head and kept piling in the dirt. Mousse could be so mean sometimes. At least he'd managed to scrounge up these shovels from those sleeves of his.

When they had finished, Shampoo went down to the nearby river. She washed the taste of soil out of her mouth and leaned over for another drink.

"Shampoo!"

Shampoo swung around. Shinnosuke was gazing at her.

"Forgetful boy remember Shampoo?" she asked in genuine amazement.

He held up a hand covered in kanji. "Thank you for helping me bury my grandfather," he read off of his hand.

"Oh." Shampoo turned back to the river. "You're welcome," she said gracelessly, not knowing why she felt so disappointed.

A giant fish stirred in the water, splashing Shampoo. Shampoo had a moment of surprise before she thought, _Dinner!_ Ever since getting cursed to turn into a cat with cold water, she had developed a greatly enhanced appetite for fish, even in human form. She raised her hand to chop at it-

-and her hand was pulled back.

"You can't!" Shinnosuke exclaimed anxiously. "It's one of the zoo fish."  
"It's my dinner," Shampoo growled, shaking his hand off. Cologne was not making this an easy trip on them. She wanted that fish.

"No." Shinnosuke said firmly.

"Forgetful boy get out of the way!" Shampoo shot her leg out, but Shinnosuke produced a broom from nowhere and swept her neatly off her feet. He held her to the ground with his broom, watching the river to make sure the fish had a chance to swim away.

Shampoo looked up at Shinnosuke from the ground. Dimly, she could hear Mousse's exclamation a few feet away, and was aware of Cologne's presence behind him.

Had Shinnosuke just defeated her? He was nowhere near as skilled as she. She had been distracted. She had underestimated him. But, nevertheless, whatever the reason, Shampoo had had the first attack, and now she was on the ground, defeated, in front of witnesses. She looked up at the boy. He was strong, and handsome. _I could marry him._

"I'm sorry, miss..."

"Is on your hand!" Shampoo snapped.

"Shampoo?" Shinnosuke read. He looked confused for a second. "Why are you on the ground?" He looked at his broom and hastily yanked it off of her. "Oh, Miss Shampoo, I'm so sorry! Were we fighting? Why were we fighting?" He looked at his hand again. "Thank you for helping me bury my...grandfather? My grandfather is dead?"

Mousse whipped out his spectacles. "Shampoo! Why are you on the ground? Shinnosuke, you jerk!"

_ Oh, go away!_ Shampoo thought fiercely. She sprang to her feet. Shinnosuke didn't know about Mousse's arsenal of junk. He could get-

-hurt.

Well.

Shinnosuke had a fighting style that Shampoo had never encountered before, honed while herding giant spiky versions of soft and not-so-soft creatures normally found in zoos, but he hadn't had to use it. A sweep of his broom had sprayed water from the river over Mousse.

Cologne caught up the unfortunate duck and stuffed him into a canvas sack. "Stay put," she ordered.

Shinnosuke shuffled his feet. "I'm sorry he got so close, miss..."

"Is on hand!"

"Shampoo?" Shinnosuke paused. "It's a good thing he turned into a duck. But don't worry, I will protect you." He smiled. "You remind me – yes, remind me! – of a girl – Atari?"

Even here! "Akane," Shampoo supplied listlessly.

Shinnosuke raised his eyebrows tenderly. "She had a boyfriend already," he said, dredging up memories from who knows where. His eyes were warm. "Do you?"

Shampoo felt her breathing quicken. She could feel Cologne watching her and didn't care. "No," she said. "Shampoo no have airen."

Shinnosuke blinked. "I'm sorry, miss, did you say you needed a shampoo?"

Shampoo choked off a scream of frustration, and out of her rage was born a Great Idea. "Great-grandmother! Did you pack special hair care products?"

Cologne handed over the mysteriously numbered bottles in the correct order and allowed herself just the hint of a smile. Kumon Ryu was too violent for looking after children, and would be useless if "broken." Pantyhose Taro would destroy the village looking for a new edge in his fights. Konatsu had pledged himself to Ucchan's Okonomiyaki and its minimum wage. Shampoo couldn't stand Mousse, and never would. There were so very few men to choose from at the higher levels of the Art. It had been rather a gamble, but evidently it had been a gamble worth taking.

Cologne totted it up with satisfaction. Shinnosuke had lived in a forest all his life, and would fit right in to the village. He had a different fighting technique that would be useful to study. He knew how to cook for himself, and he and his grandfather had taken care of each other. By all appearances he understood the importance of family. And, finally, Cologne had brought along the secret Amazon shampoos which would reconnect his old memories and allow him to form new ones.

Cologne watched her great-granddaughter lead the forgetful boy to the river and carefully begin washing his hair in a sun-warmed section of the water. She began making plans to sell the Cat Cafe.


	10. Chapter 10, redone

A/N: ultimately the same ending, but different path to get there.

Dunking a hand in a glass of water comes from One Trick Pony, I think.

* * *

Ryoga collapsed against a rock, flicking caterpillars off of his pants. He was glad he'd decided to take his backpack even for that short trip out to the curb, because he'd need it now.

A leafy frond brushed against his face, and he was conscious of being very much alone in the jungle, with nothing but his rucksack and a "Veggie Mart" shopping bag.

Well, there wasn't much to do except sort the mail.

There were some advertisements. These were discarded. Ryoga had never been much interested in cars; they couldn't go even a small fraction of the places he went. Shopping for groceries, despite his shopping bag, was likewise out. There were some brochures for colleges. Ryoga had gotten on some list; he had been telling the truth to Ranma about his IB in Physics. He read through the notice about this new "online learning" program but dismissed it. Maybe when computers got smaller he'd think about it some more. And then there were his letters. Ranma hadn't read a single one.

Ryoga closed his eyes and listened to the wind ripple through the leaves. Each 1-ounce envelope weighed like a lead plate upon his heart of glass. Ryoga wished his emergency crank radio could pick up classic rock stations.

Return to Sender.

Patterns of light danced across the inside of Ryoga's eyelids.

Ryoga was a fool.

Ryoga's mind flashed back to those ice-blue eyes and their last conversation. _I know he's not a girl. Why does he keep bringing it up? Does he think I just want a girl, someone sweet like Akari?_ He felt a sharp twinge of regret. He hadn't seen Akari for months, not since she'd informed him, tight-lipped, that a man who couldn't even find his way around the pig-training compound had no place in her life. He knew she'd been upset, and thought maybe she hadn't meant to break things off quite so finally, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out how to get back to her farm. If she were Ranma, he would only have to think of her.

Images of Ranma flashed through Ryoga's mind, and he smiled in spite of himself. Each disguise was more obvious than the previous one, and once he had seen through one of them, he could look back and see through the rest.

It had caught him by surprise, the intensity of his feelings for Ranma. But then he'd wondered: he had never really wanted Ranma to die, anyway. He'd said it a thousand times, but only because he knew that Ranma was the better of the two of them. Ryoga could never let real threats hurt Ranma, even when he had thought himself in love with Akane.

Ryoga opened his eyes, looking up at the cool shade but seeing Ranma's face. Ranma had called him a good sparring partner, but Ryoga knew that they'd have to find other people to really fight against now. They could still train together, but it would be nearly impossible for Ryoga to employ the same ferocity he'd once used. By the time they'd gone out to Nabiki's lunch, Ryoga had had to concentrate on pretending to be the same old Ryoga. He had agonized over that misplaced punch for weeks, and as "Akira" had caught himself watching "Ranko" carefully for signs of dizziness or headache. He had had to force himself to swing Ranma into trees and bounce him off of concrete walls. It was much easier on Ryoga's nerves to tutor "Ranko" in physics, because as "Akira," Ryoga was no longer expected to dash his love into inanimate objects.

The problem was, Ranma might be Ryoga's love, but apparently Ryoga wasn't Ranma's.

Something fluttered against Ryoga's leg, and he looked down to see a cheap store circular, which had caught up between the letters, sliding to the ground.

Ryoga picked it up and was about to crumple it and toss it in the bag when the name caught his eye, and the address.

It was time for one more try before Ryoga conceded to Ranma's wishes to leave Ranma alone. This piece of paper was like a bulletin from Fate.

Ryoga stood up, picked up his shopping bag, and closed his eyes. If he could manage to get there, then this was meant to be. "Nodoka Saotome," Ryoga thought firmly. "Ranma's mother."

* * *

"Kuonji?"

Ukyo looked up from the griddle in surprise. All of her school friends called her Ucchan, and her business associates called her Kuonji-san.

A boy was sitting right up by the griddle, grinning at her. He looked familiar, but Ukyo couldn't quite place him.

"Well? Do you remember me?"

"I'm sorry," Ukyo blushed.

"Come on, Kuonji! The food fights?"

Ukyo looked again, and the beautiful aroma of her gourmet okonomiyaki was at once transformed into the tangy pungent smell of cheap cafeteria condiments. It was no less lovely a scent, because it was accompanied by the few happy memories she had had between Ranma leaving and her seeing him again.

This boy had been on the edges of that old school group, skipping some of their food fights to study in the library. Now that he'd been placed in context, his face was immediately recognizable. "Ishigaki, right?"

"Sure, but you can call me Shinchi."

There was an ever-so-slight note of anxiety in his casual words, and Ukyo smiled. "Call me Ucchan," she replied. She sprinkled some dried cuttlefish on the okonomiyaki she had been making for herself, in that peculiar afternoon time between the lunch and dinner peaks. She would have eaten it plain, but Shinchi had liked cuttlefish, back in the day. "On the house," she said, sliding the okonomiyaki onto a plate and in front of him. _Uh-oh, Ukyo_, she thought wryly to herself. _You're starting all over again._

"Oh- are you sure?" Shinchi's hand hovered uncertainly between accepting the plate and reaching for his wallet.

"Of course. For an old friend." Ukyo smiled. "But just this once," she said teasingly.

Shinchi returned the smile. "Wow," he said.

"Wow what?"

"I didn't believe it when Tsubasa came back and told us you were a girl, but you sure are."

Ukyo felt her face grow hot, and she turned to adjust some of the jars on a shelf.

"I meant that in a good way, of course," Shinchi tacked on hastily.

Ukyo attempted a dazzling, girlish, Akane-like smile, and was thrilled to see an answering blush on Shinchi's face.

Shinchi picked up the okonomiyaki, smitten, and took a bite. "Hey, this is really good."

"Thanks," Ukyo said warmly, having expected no less. "So, what brings you here? Business? School?"

The rush of flame around Shinchi's ears gave Ukyo her answer. "School friend," Shinchi said, bravely, anyway. He smiled. "I wanted to see if she really was a girl."

Ukyo waited for Shinchi to eat some more, noting that he did, in fact, seem to be enjoying the extra cuttlefish. She busied herself cleaning the grill and polishing her spatulas and said offhandedly, "How long will you be here?"

"Only a few days."

Ukyo felt a wave of disappointment.

"But who knows, my plans might change. The correspondence courses for accounting are quite good." He shrugged. "I'd hoped to go to a university, though. That way I can double major in accounting and early childhood development, all in one place." He shook his head. "My dad's pretty upset about that idea. He thinks it's a fluffy field, but I say, I like children. I want to know how they learn. He likes the accounting, though. Supports small business and all that."

Ukyo's eyebrows climbed into her headband. Shinchi wanted to major in accounting and early childhood development? "Everything in Japan is pretty close on high-speed train, and I'm sure your father will come around eventually," she said encouragingly, amending her former disappointment entirely. Glimpses of children playing in the yard – they'd have to buy up the adjacent property so that the children could have a yard – flew swiftly through her mind. "Shinchi," Ukyo said sweetly, pouring out some more rounds of batter, "What are your favorite toppings?"

* * *

"Hooonk!"

The blare of a horn made Ryoga's eyes snap open. He stumbled back as the motorcycle passed. Ryoga looked around himself in amazement. He had actually made it back to Nerima! Unfortunately, he had lost his concentration. He stepped nervously up onto the sidewalk, wondering how, or if, he could get back into his meditative state.

He looked down the street in both directions, including up, but it was useless. He was completely, hopelessly lost. Come to think of it, maybe this wasn't really Nerima. It kind of...felt like Nerima, though. It smelled vaguely of okonomiyaki.

* * *

Ukyo dropped her spatula. "It's Ryoga! Oh, no, he's lost!"

Too late, Ukyo saw the surprise pass over Shinchi's face. He would think that Ukyo had a boyfriend. He would excuse himself and leave.

Ryoga was fast disappearing, and Ukyo had an okonomiyaki on the grill, but she _had_ to talk to him, had to find out the truth about him and Ranma.

"Want me to catch him?" Shinchi sprang up from the barstool, and at Ukyo's automatic nod, streaked out the door.

* * *

Ryoga leapt back before the hand could touch him, but his would-be assailant was no fighter.

"Hey," said the preppy-looking boy. "Ishigaki, Shinchi. Ucchan said you're lost."

Ryoga faltered. "Um, Hibiki, Ryoga. Yes, I, uh..."

"Come on, she's right across the street. I'll take you to her."

Ukyo would know how to find the address. Ryoga held out his hand.

The boy raised an eyebrow and shook Ryoga's offered hand. The other eyebrow came up when Ryoga didn't let go.

"I, uh..." Ryoga cursed his lousy sense of direction one more time, wishing he could blast everything into oblivion and leave one and only one road: the one that led to Ranma's house. "I have a terrible sense of direction," Ryoga said lamely. "I have to, um, hold on."

"Right."

Ryoga turned left. The boy politely turned Ryoga around and started leading Ryoga across the street.

* * *

"Hey, Ukyo. Thanks for finding me." Ryoga dug around in his backpack for some pocket money, and not the serious cash that he kept in rolls. "Two of the specials, please."

Ukyo nodded, dropping the bills into the till. She washed her hands and got ready to pour some more batter, wondering how she was going to go through with questioning Ryoga. If things were going well, Ryoga might crash ecstatically through a wall. If things were going poorly, he might bring a Shi-Shi-Hokodan down on the roof of her restaurant.

To Ukyo's great surprise, Shinchi began a conversation before she could. Later, Shinchi would admit that he had wanted to find out who his possible competition was, but for now, it just sounded like a friendly conversation.

"So, Hibiki, how do you and Ucchan know each other?" It was a perfectly bland opening, allowing a response anywhere from cousins to school chums to a proud declaration of one's beautiful wife.

Ryoga slid his eyes over to Ukyo, remembering their hormone-charged machinations to tear Akane and Ranma apart in the Tunnel of Lost Love. Did that count as being friends? "We've, um, worked together before."

"Here at the restaurant?"

"No, um..." Should Ryoga mention the Tunnel of Lost Love? One look at Ukyo's face told him his answer was no. "Camping."

"Oh. Camping."

Shinchi and Ryoga both had the same thought simultaneously, and Ryoga was quick to add, "It was a group of us. Ukyo, myself, Ranma, and Akane."

Akane sounded like a girl's name, and Ranma might be one, too. Shinchi raised his eyebrows just enough to be a question.

"Yeah." Ryoga broke into a large smile. "Ranma."

Ukyo's heart melted along with the pat of butter on the grill. Ryoga was as in love with Ranma as any of them had been. He wasn't doing anything to Ranma. Ranma must have made the decision to deny Ryoga and start dating Akane all on his own. It made sense once you thought about it; of course Ranma's hidebound honor would be making him honor the Tendo-Saotome contract, even though the contract with his mother had been destroyed.

Ukyo looked at Shinchi speculatively. Perhaps she could afford to be magnanimous now. This time she wasn't chasing after a boy; a boy had come all the way to Nerima chasing after _her_. And, from the looks of it, Ranma and Ryoga were going to need _some_one's help getting together. "Hey," she said casually. "I'm sorry about that time, you know, when you were out with Ranma."

Ryoga looked at Ukyo almost suspiciously and Ukyo gave him a small smile. "Ranma's paid me back for my father's cart, did you know that?" She shrugged leisurely, hoping he would get the hint. "That settles that. It was with interest, too. I'm thinking of putting in some formica counter tops over there. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds...good," Ryoga said slowly. "Ukyo, do you think you might do me a favor?"

"Sure, sugar. Name it."

* * *

"Concept of the Lever Arm," Ranma said smugly, standing over his father.

Genma-as-panda sprang out of the puddle, bashing Ranma with a sign that said, "Bamboo Barrage." He began hurling stalks of bamboo at his laughing son.

Ranma plucked the stalks out of the air, using his Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire speed, and bounced lightly up into a tree.

Genma sucked in as much water as his larger panda body would allow, and sprayed it up into the leaves.

There was an indignant shriek, a rustle, and Ranma descended feet first and kicked Genma smartly in the head. "No fair, Pops!" she cried, but she was smiling. "Teenybopper Terror!" she screamed, and suddenly she had attached herself to his furry back like a leech on a wart. "Oh, Panda-chan, you're sooo cute and fuzzy, can I pet you?"

Genma fell to his knees, retching at the saccharine tone of voice, and Ranma cackled and disappeared into the forest, spraying Genma with pebbles.

The father and son kept this up until nightfall, when by mutual agreement it was time to eat.

Ranma changed back into his male form using the kettle that they kept on the ring of stones. He started looking through their backpacks for spoons.

Genma felt the burden of responsibility weighing upon his shoulders as he contemplated their tinned food: did he tell Ranma there was a can of imported ravioli left, and therefore have to split it with him, or did he save it for when Ranma was asleep, and feed them both beans right now? Oh, the decisions a parent had to make for his offspring.  
The can of ravioli flashed once and was gone.

Genma turned around, to see Ranma sitting by the fire, eating ravioli – how had the boy opened the can that fast? – and grinning.

"You weren't thinking of hiding this from me, were you, Pops?" But then he tossed the already half-finished can to Genma. "You can have the rest."

Genma had raised a good son in spite of himself.

Now came the real responsibility, and one of the reasons for this trip. Nodoka would never forgive him if he failed to address the question. "Son," Genma droned sonorously.

"Yeah, Pops?"

Genma thought fleetingly of the carefree days of yore, before Ranma had been cursed, and before Genma's mistake with the cat pit. He wanted to keep Ranma out here, where the boy still laughed and meant it, and could change into a girl without immediately changing back.

"Son," he began again, "there comes a time in every man's life..." ...when he becomes shackled to a lovely maniac for life. "...when..." ...when he gives up his solitary comforts and trades them for a life of servitude. "...he gives..."

"...his heart to a woman," Ranma completed, setting down the can of beans. "I know. I've already asked Akane, and she needs more time to think. Mom'll give me the ring again in a week."

Genma cleared his throat with a rumble. "Boy," he said, "marriage is..."

"...a commitment. I know that, Father." Ranma brushed some stray hairs from his face. "I'll be faithful to Akane." He smiled crookedly. "Is that what's got you worried? Do you think I'm some lech like Happosai?"

_Father?_ What had happened to 'Pops'?

Genma's eyes refocused foggily. Ranma's feet for a second seemed to dangle from the log rather than reach the ground, and he tugged his falling gi back onto his narrow, sloped shoulders. "Boy..." Genma's voice cracked, and the illusion was gone. Ranma's scuffed black slippers were planted firmly in the dirt, and his broad, muscled shoulders stood out from his tank top as he leaned toward the fire, eyes dark and serious.

_How did I deserve a son like this?_ Genma asked himself, not for the first time.

"Well? What were you going to say?"

_We want you to be happy._ Genma cleared his throat. "Being a man among men requires integrity."

Ranma's face went white.

Genma was not afraid of his son. "Honesty with oneself."

"Oh, like you're one to –"

"Honesty with one's loved ones."

Ranma fell absolutely silent. He had even stopped breathing. His hand caught the letter that Genma tossed to him, and began trembling.

"Akane-chan showed this letter to us," Genma said. "Your mother and I thought you should have it."

"But...the dojos..." Words leaked slowly out of Ranma's mouth. "Mother..."

"I suspect that being a martial artist's wife is more difficult than we imagine," Genma said heavily, his words laced with regret. "Do not judge your mother too harshly." _Nor me._ "I know now that she would never have harmed you," -_although she would happily have sliced little bits off of me, when she found out about that cat pit-_ "no matter what the contract said."

Ranma was shaking so violently that the can of beans fell off the log. His voice was thick and barely controlled. "You both..._know_. About Ryoga and me." The palm of Ranma's hand dug into rough bark and stripped it away. "But I'm supposed to marry Akane, aren't I?"

Genma felt fortunate that he did not have to search for the right words: a set had already been provided to him by Nodoka. "I think you should read the letter and decide for yourself."

* * *

As soon as Ranma stepped in the door, Soun Tendo grabbed both of his hands, smiling and sobbing. "How wonderful! My future son-in-law!"

Ranma had a Cologne-inspired aversion to that phrase, and extricated himself as politely as he could, bowing. "Tendo-san." He tried to look past the man's shoulder. "Is my mother in?"

"Of course, of course," Soun wept, ushering him in. "She is in the back room, sewing with Kasumi."

Ranma was happy to steer Soun back to the shogi board, and turned down the hallway.

Kasumi and Ranma's mother both jumped slightly when Ranma appeared in the doorway.

"Ranma-kun," Nodoka said warmly. She snipped off a thread, and held Ranma lovingly with her eyes.

Ranma blinked back sudden tears, conscious of his reeking, mud-stained clothes. _Mother loves me. Even when I'm sweaty._

"Mother..."  
"Yes, Ranma-kun?" Nodoka asked brightly.

Ranma didn't know where to start. _Mom, do you mind if I don't marry Akane after all? Do you mind that I change into a girl? Do you mind if I'm in love with my friend Ryoga?_

Ranma felt swiftly that he would die if his mother looked at him in disgust. He, who could punch through steel like tissue paper – he was too fragile. He couldn't bear it. "Nothing, Mom, sorry. I'm gonna take a bath." Ranma turned and shut the door softly behind him.

It was only when Ranma had finished with his bath and entered the guest room that he noticed that his mother, in preparation for his return, had laid out _two_ sets of clean things for him to wear: a set of striped cotton pyjamas, and a slinky silk nightgown printed with hearts.

* * *

"Ranma. Ranma, I see you up there. Don't pretend you don't hear me." Akane had been doing aerobics in the backyard with Nabiki, and now she stood in her leotard with her hands on her hips, her hair jutting out at strange angles from her terry-cloth headband.

Ranma closed his eyes briefly, and then vaulted out of the tree. "Hey, Akane. What's up?" He forced a pleasant look onto his face. "Wanna spar?"

Akane smiled. "No, thanks," she said, which surprised Ranma. "Maybe later." She took his hand from his side. "Ranma," she said shyly, giving the hand a little tug, "Would you like to get some ice cream?"

Oh, no. That was the one thing he couldn't pretend to be: Ryoga, going on an ice-cream date with Ranma. That would be far too painful.

"I don't think you need ice cream right now," Ranma said, the words leaping out of his mouth before he could stop them, his free hand gesturing automatically to Akane's thighs as cruelly as he could. His heart wrenched as he saw the hurt pass over Akane's face, but the next words out of Akane's mouth shocked him.

"Oh, Ranma," Akane said evenly. "Stuff it. There's nothing wrong with my thighs and we both know it. Now, I'll get cleaned up, and we _will_ go out. Got it?" She didn't wait for him to respond, and marched inside.

Ranma couldn't help sneaking glances at Akane all the way downtown. Akane hadn't pounded him to a pulp for saying something stupid? Hiroshi really was good for her. He almost, but not quite, wished he were in love with her; Akane in a short skirt and _not angry_ was a real catch.

Akane found them a booth. Ranma ordered in a daze, at a loss for words. _Pretend she's you. Come on. What would you want Ryoga to say?_

_I love you. Let's visit Prague._

_No, dummy, you can't say either of those things to her._

"Ranma..." Akane's voice was sad.

Ranma looked up. _Darn it, have I made her cry? I haven't said anything yet!_

"I just don't understand. Didn't they show you the letter?"

Ranma didn't respond, and Akane decided to keep talking to fill the silence. "I was so furious at –" she caught herself abruptly. She didn't need Nabiki to tell her that revealing her father would cause more trouble than it was worth. "- at – um - whoever it was for writing Return to Sender when he or she should have just put it back through the post. That's what you do with a letter that's arrived at the wrong address, and that must have been what had happened." Akane trailed off. "They did show it to you, didn't they?" A tic began to jump in her cheek.

"Yeah, they showed it to me," Ranma said finally, and Akane's face calmed down.

"And did you read it?" Akane's voice was unaccountably anxious.

Ranma looked down. "No."

"Ranma!" Akane halted her fist a millimeter from the table and smiled brightly at the waitress who came by with their ice creams. "Thank you," she said demurely.

Akane rounded on Ranma as soon as the waitress had left. "Ranma!" she exploded as quietly as she could. "You love Ryoga! And he wrote you a letter! Why couldn't you just read it?"

Ranma's expression was strangely blank, his eyes shining too clearly, too guilelessly. "Because I'm engaged to you."

"Oh, Ranma! As if that matters!"

Ranma's reply was soft but wounding: "It matters to me."

Akane gaped at Ranma in aggravation. Of course it mattered to him. She would have remembered that if she hadn't felt that the solution to Ranma's problems was so blindingly obvious. "Ranma, I know our fathers have an agreement, but you know, Nabiki told me – if both parties agree, you can _change_ a contract."

Ranma frowned, and Akane sighed in frustration. "It's not backing out, it's _renegotiating_." Nabiki would have said this much more convincingly, Akane was sure of it.

Nevertheless, some of the clouds seemed to have lifted from Ranma's expression, and he picked up his spoon. "Nabiki said that?"

"Yes."

The spoon lowered back to the glass-topped table. "Akane...do you _want_ to be my fiancee?"

Akane paused. She had pined for Ranma, she had fought with Ranma, and she had grown up with Ranma. She loved him with the same certainty she had known despite all of their childish denials. She knew instinctively that she would die for him and feel that she had been granted a favor. "No."

Ranma waited for a while to let this sink in. _The great Ranma Saotome, rejected._

"Are you – gonna marry Hiroshi, then?" Ranma asked tentatively

Akane shook her head. "No. Maybe. But not right now. Right now I'm not going to marry anyone." She took a breath, gaining courage. "I've got to finish school, and maybe Nabiki will help me with the entrance exams to college. Hiroshi is nice, but, who knows," she shrugged. "I might meet someone later, too. But-" she looked directly at Ranma, "_you_ know who _you_ love."

Ranma tried to sort through his emotions. _I'm not Akane's fiance any more._ It was a curious statement. Who had he been before he'd been engaged to Akane? He'd just been a kid, who had trained a lot. He and Akane had come a long way together. "Akane..."

Ranma looked up and read a wealth of understanding in Akane's eyes. _I wish I'd known she could be like this before._

They ate their ice cream in silence, thoughts of their futures – their separate futures – roiling in their heads.

When they had finished, and were looking at each other with satisfied expressions, Akane said timidly, "Ranma, one thing?"

"Yeah?"

"Keep sparring with me. Please."

Ranma's eyes hooded. "Sure, tomboy," he said easily. He put a bill on the table, enough to cover both of their ice creams and then, before Akane realized what he was doing, dunked his hand in his glass of water. "But you'll have to catch me first."

_ Oh, drat._ Akane thought, slithering awkwardly out of the booth._ He's faster as a girl. _

* * *

Ranma strode in with Akane, and the two stood side by side at the shogi board. "Tendo-san-" Ranma began.

"Excellent!" Soun exclaimed. "Of course I give my blessing!"

Akane pulled Ranma back. "Daddy, wait," she cautioned. "Listen to Ranma."

"Tendo-san," Ranma began again, "We would like to renegotiate the contract."

From across the room, Nabiki put down the Business section of the newspaper and went to go get Auntie Nodoka.

Soun frowned. "Renegotiate?"

"Akane and I are no longer engaged."

Soun steadied his hand on the shogi table, lips quivering. "Nabiki?" he queried, without much hope. "Kasumi?" There was slightly more hope there.

Ranma shook his head at each name.

"But-" Soun turned his head to stare at Genma. "But the dojos must be joined!"

"Oh, Daddy."

Everyone turned in surprise to look at Nabiki, whose voice was unusually and unnervingly affectionate. "Daddy, really. Why did you make the contract to begin with?"

Soun looked at the small fake-ivory pieces on the table and realized that he had about to make a losing move.

"I think I know. You wanted us to be happy, and provided for." Nabiki smiled ruefully. "But life is like the stock market, Daddy. There are no guarantees."

Hearing the word "Daddy" so many times from his coldest daughter was making Soun feel as though he'd had one too many cups of sake.

"It would be impossible, of course, for any of us to be happy knowing that our husband was thinking of someone else. And he is."

If Soun had thought he was going to lose the shogi game, he knew he was going to lose this argument. He didn't understand where Nabiki had gotten her wily personality from. Surely neither he nor her mother had been quite so _complicated_.

"Are you sure about that?" Soun asked, looking at Ranma.

As if on cue, Kasumi looked over from the kitchen, and the sprayer with which she was washing vegetables caught Ranma's cheek.

"Tendo-san," Ranma pleaded, her eyes large and dewy, "I've tried to deny it, but I simply can't. My true feelings are for a boy."

Genma made a strange choking sound beside Soun.

"And Father..." Kasumi emerged from the kitchen drying her hands. She put one of them on Ranma's shoulder. "We love Ranma-chan like a sister – or brother-, and you certainly love Saotome-san like a brother, so your wish has been fulfilled already. The dojos have been joined."

Genma! The freeloading wretch was as bad as Master Happosai, was what Soun wanted to say, but he couldn't. Having Genma and his family practically living here soothed the void that the girls' mother had left. The constant excitement, and Nodoka's fruit and vegetable gardens, had added a flavor to Soun's life that he would crave if it were to leave.

"So here," Nabiki added smoothly, "renegotiation is really a redefinition of terms. In place of joining the dojos by marriage, we have joining the dojos as a figurative ligature, deferring to the common usage of "join" as a union of..."

When it was over, Nabiki hugged her father. "By the way, Daddy, the bill for my first college semester will be arriving soon." She smiled at Akane's exasperated look. "But don't worry about it. I've won a scholarship, and the bursar should be crediting it to my account within the next two weeks."

Soun reviewed the wreckage of his plans and found that there really wasn't much that had been wrecked. A kind-looking boy named Hiroshi came by to collect Akane for the evening, and by ten o'clock they were back, setting up a telescope in the yard. Kasumi received a phone call from that doctor at the clinic, and spent an hour on the phone murmuring in a low voice while the doctor on the other end stuttered. Nabiki showed Nodoka how to make something they were calling a "spreadsheet." Ranma changed into a gi and taught the evening class at the dojo. And Soun, having saved himself from his earlier mistake, won over Genma at shogi.

That night, Kasumi moved her mother's kimono from her own room back into Akane's, and Nodoka went home and fetched her sewing machine, as there was no further reason to stall.

* * *

"Woah, who's that?"

"I don't know, but did you see those muscles?"

"Oh, my gosh, he's looking this way!"

"Not at you, I'm sure!"

Ranma looked up. "Is there a problem?" she asked. After a few rough and incredulous sessions, and after a few stern but gently-delivered words from Kasumi, even the most standoffish of students had accepted their dual Ranma/Ranko-sensei. Ranma taught in either form these days, as the mood suited him, but he still preferred his girl form, possibly out of habit.

"Er – Ranko-sensei," ventured one student bravely, "there's a guy outside."

Ranma looked up calmly. "Oh." She glanced over at Akane.

Akane looked up at just the right instant. Her eyes widened. "Go ahead, I'll combine the classes," she said, craning her neck as curiously as any of the students.

Ranma loosened her belt, reached over to the corner, and grabbed a thermos to change into a guy.

The students tittered nervously.

"She changed. Are they going to fight?"

Ranma tossed the thermos back into the corner and went lightly down the steps.

Ryoga turned to face Ranma. "I found you." He had one hand in a fist and the other cupping it, almost as if they were about to fight a duel.

"So you did." Had Ryoga actually come here to fight?

Ryoga looked at the faces crowded around the dojo door. "Do you always have this much of an audience?"

"When I'm teaching, yes."

"So be it."

The first punch was straight and to the point: _Why did you send back my letters?_

The block and the uppercut feint were a fitting response: _You sent them to the Tendo dojo, you fool. I only got the last one._

The leg sweep was no surprise: _Are you still dating Akane?_

The quick volley of blows to the chest said clearly: _What the hell do _you_ think?_

The kiss was hard and unexpected and came like an attack. Ranma's back cracked against the tree in the yard, and when they came up for air, he slammed Ryoga into the same tree. It was such a relief, to be able to kiss someone he couldn't hurt if he tried, at least not physically.

The shocked silence in the dojo erupted into an excited babble, and someone, probably Akane, slid the door shut with a bang.

"What if my...mother...is watching?" Ranma gasped.

Ryoga bared his fangs. He had a ring tucked in his backpack, a ring that Ranma's mother had given him, that said she wouldn't mind at all. He pulled Ranma closer.

* * *

Suzuki-sensei glanced up from her papers and put a large green streak over one of them by accident. A red-headed girl in the most stunning kimono had appeared silently and was standing over her desk.

"May I help you?" Suzuki-sensei asked when she had her voice back.

"Yes, I'm in your class," the redhead said pleasantly.

Suzuki-sensei reached for her roster in something akin to panic. Surely she should have recognized this student.

"Saotome. Saotome Ranma."  
Suzuki-sensei tried to conjure up a face for the name and came up with a slightly cocky-looking boy, black hair. He had usually been silent, and had sat in the back of the class. He hadn't been in for several weeks. And, most importantly, he'd been a _he_. Or had he?

Suzuki-sensei took another admiring glance at the girl's kimono. Someone had tailored it with love, choosing exactly the right fabrics to set off the girl's coloring. It was a wonder what a nice dress and some new hairstyling could do. "You have missed several classes," she said finally, tearing her eyes away in order to look at the attendance marks.

"I'd like to continue with the class. Will that be possible?"

"Well..." Truancy was not to be tolerated, but on the other hand, there were so many students who just slid through the cracks when something came up.

The girl sensed a weak resistance and pressed it. "If I get an A in every assignment from now on, will I be able to pass?"

Suzuki-sensei pursed her lips, her attention now completely on the gradebook. Saotome Ranma had been doing pretty good work. "Yes, your grade will recover in that case." She looked up and nodded. "I will certainly allow you to try. But, I am warning you, it will be difficult to make up all of the material for the days you have missed."

The girl looked back serenely and tossed her pigtail over her shoulder. "Anything goes," she said. She smiled and bowed. "Thank you, sensei."

A few seconds after the girl had left, Suzuki-sensei thought she heard someone say something like, "Not in the dress my mom made for me, Happosai, you old pervert! I'm gonna knock you into the next century!" and she thought she felt a giant tremor...but she dismissed that as a side effect of having done one too many integrations in the complex plane, and decided it was time to go home.

* * *

A/N: That's a wrap!


	11. old version Chapter 9

Akane gave Hiroshi a quick kiss. "Thanks for walking me home."

Hiroshi tilted his head questioningly towards the lit doorway, all the way down the walk.

Akane shook her head. "They'll see you."

A summer storm gathered in Hiroshi's brows, sudden and unexpected, but it passed just as quickly. "Good night, Akane-chan." He smiled to show that he wasn't really upset, and left whistling down the sidewalk.

"See what?" Nabiki stepped out of the shadows and held her sister with a sardonic raise of her eyebrow. "See Hiroshi-kun?"

"Hello, Nabiki-oneechan," Akane muttered, trying to see if there was a good way to brush past Nabiki. Actually, there was a person behind Nabiki. "Kasumi-oneechan..."  
"Akane-chan, we have something quite serious to tell you."

Akane's annoyance vanished, her heart plummeting to her stomach in icy dread. "Ranma?" she whispered.

* * *

Kasumi patted Akane's hair rhythmically. "Shh," she murmured.

"But I had no idea," Akane sobbed for the tenth time, her tears soaking into Kasumi's butterfly-patterned sheets. "I would never have left if I'd thought he'd try _that_."

Kasumi rubbed Akane's back lightly. Although Kasumi didn't often pry into her sisters' personal affairs, she felt that now was a good time for a question. "Akane-chan..."  
"Yes, Kasumi?"

"I know Ranma-kun is important to you...but what about that other boy you've been seeing?"

Akane buried her face against one of Kasumi's pillows, which she had appropriated and taken to the foot of the bed. She looked away at the far wall.

"Akane-chan, this is very important. Do you love him?"

Akane didn't answer.

Kasumi fought down her frustration. "Akane-chan, you must find an answer to this question. Not for me, for yourself." She had taken her hands from Akane's back without noticing it, and touched her fingertips gently to Akane's shirt again. "And for Ranma-kun."

Akane rolled on her back suddenly, nearly trapping Kasumi's fingers. Akane blew at her bangs. "It's complicated," she said sadly. "Hiroshi is just...a normal guy. There isn't all that craziness that's always around Ranma. And he likes me. Whereas Ranma..." Akane trailed off.

Yes. _'Whereas Ranma...'_ There were so many ways to complete that sentence.

"...but Ranma does love me, and I love Ranma, too." Akane said it like a mantra.

"Enough to marry him?" Kasumi probed gently.

"I have to, don't I?"

"You have to _want_ to," Kasumi said firmly. "You must be truthful with yourself, Akane-chan. If you love Ranma-kun enough to marry him, then you must stop seeing Hiroshi-kun, and you must tell Ranma-kun that you love him. You have had enough time for childish games. And if you love Hiroshi-kun, then you must tell Ranma-kun, and Father, as soon as possible."

"Why?" Akane asked defiantly, sitting up. "So Daddy can switch the engagement to _you_?"

Kasumi jumped back as though she'd been slapped. Sweetness had protected her for so long that she had forgotten what it felt like to have sharp words addressed to her. She took a breath and evaluated the statement carefully at its face value. "Yes, Akane-chan," she said slowly, "to me or to Nabiki-chan."  
"But neither of _you_ love Ranma!"

_Akane-chan, why do you think I iron his practice shirts and spend hours cooking the foods he enjoys? Don't you think I love him, too, in my own way? _"Ranma-kun would not be expecting love if he were engaged to Nabiki-chan or to myself. He would expect Nabiki to love money and he would expect me to love housework. But Ranma would certainly expect _you_ to love _him_. Not to love Hiroshi. If you marry Ranma, you must love him."

"Since when did you become the expert? You've never even been on a date! Everyone can see Dr. Tofu's crazy about you except you!"

Kasumi sucked in her breath. Dr. Tofu was another story altogether.

Akane's temper had already faded. "I'm sorry, Oneechan," she begged. "I didn't mean it like that."  
"You meant every word," Kasumi contradicted softly. "And you are correct that I have not been on a date." Let Akane pick up on the omission if she could. "But little sister, please ask yourself: are you upset because I am being mean to you, or are you upset because you think there is some truth in what I say?"

Akane sat slumped at the foot of Kasumi's bed and listened to Kasumi's desk clock tick.

Minutes passed in silence. "Perhaps we should let these things rest until the morning," Kasumi said after a while. She reached over the bed and bumped a stuffed panda into Akane's elbow. "Shall panda-chan sleep with you tonight, Akane-chan?" she teased cautiously. "Will you sleep better then?"

Akane's lips curved into a small smile. They hadn't traded panda-chan since Akane was ten. "Yeah." Akane leaned in to give her older sister a hug. "Thanks." She rose like a dancer and tucked panda-chan under her arm. "Good night, Kasumi-oneechan."  
"Good night, Akane-chan."

* * *

Ranma opened his eyes and blinked painfully into an expanse of light. The tea alone wouldn't have knocked him out for this long, but he felt the back of his neck and around his arms, and sure enough, there were panda claw scratches around his pressure points. He rolled on his side. Beams of sunlight were pouring in through the sliding door. The smaller guestroom had once been an exercise room, and opened into the courtyard...in which Ryoga was standing at the moment, doing tai chi with his eyes closed.

Ryoga.

_I wanna be a girl_, Ranma's body urged him. _Splash me with water, and I'll say, 'oh, Ryooooga!' That'll scare the pants off of him!_

Ranma ignored the voice. He sat up slowly and looked around for his clothes. The white garments were nowhere to be found. They were probably safely stowed away in his mother's traveling bag, where he had found them. She brought them everywhere with her, along with the pair of tantos, even for the few blocks' trip to the Tendo dojo.

Ranma's pants and shirt were folded on top of a dresser, along with a thoughtful glass of water. However, as soon as Ranma rose to retrieve them, the noise alerted Ryoga.

"Ranma!"

Ranma yanked the clothes off of the dresser, sending the glass flying predictably into the air.

These had to be trick glasses. Ranma could balance a kettle of soup on the tip of a katana, yet somehow, _somehow_, all of these glasses of water just kept evading his grasp?

Ranma lashed out with his shirt and snapped the glass away.

Ryoga dove for the glass and caught it before it could smash on the ground. "Ranma!" he panted again, setting the glass just inside the doorway. There hadn't been enough water left to turn him into a pig. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, Ryoga, thanks." Ranma pulled his pants on, then his shirt. He stomach curdled with the same dismay that he'd felt before breaking up with 'Akira.' _He looks so happy, but I've got to do it now._ "Ryoga, bud, I may have said some things today –"

"Yesterday," Ryoga corrected.

Ranma frowned. "You been here all night?" He held up a hand. He already knew the answer, and didn't want to hear it. "Anyway –" Ryoga had on such a hopeful face. Had Ranma ever seen him look so undepressed? _Yeah, when I thought he was Akira, or when I thought he thought I was someone else._

"Ranma – I'm so glad you're up."

_He's gonna touch me.  
_"Your mother destroyed the contract by accident."

"I saw." Did Ryoga think that changed anything?

"She doesn't remember what it said. She's not going to enforce it. Ranma, do you know what this means?"

Ranma slithered away from the reaching fingers. "It means nothing," he said coldly. "Mother may not remember the terms of the contract, but _I_ do." He pushed Ryoga roughly. "Now I want _you_ to remember something, porkchop."  
Ryoga fell back, hurt and dread warring for position on his face.

Ranma continued without mercy. "Ryoga, I am a _guy_. It was fun playing tricks on you, and thanks for all the ice cream, by the way, but anything else you might have thought –forget it."

"But...Ranma..."

"You're a damn good sparring partner, but you are _not_ my boyfriend. I am _not_ your girlfriend. I am _not a girl_."

"Ranma – that's okay. I love you anyway."  
Ranma knew that, too. Of course he did. Even his guy body wanted the embrace he knew he could get. All he had to do was step forward.

Ranma took a step back. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that, bacon-boy." He felt the chill that he had perfected biting at his soul. "You've got three seconds to leave before I hiryuu-shoten-ha you out the door, and believe me, I don't want to do that in the Tendos' dojo. Get moving. One...two..."

Ryoga grabbed his backpack from the steps. "This isn't goodbye."

"Thr—"

Ryoga took off at a run.

* * *

_Ranma'll snap out of it_, Ryoga repeated to himself confidently, but his mind kept flashing back to those ice-blue eyes. _He just needs some time. He'll remember how much fun we had hanging out together. _Or would he?

_I know he's not a girl. Why does he keep bringing it up? Does he think I just want a girl, someone sweet like Akari?_ He felt a sharp twinge of guilt. He hadn't seen Akari for months, not since getting lost on their trip out to see her latest pigs. That had been ungentlemantly of him. He would have to find her again, and tell her about Ranma. The problem was finding his way to her pig-training compound. If she were Ranma, he would only have to think of her. He certainly didn't dislike her. Akari had many good qualities, including fluffy chestnut hair and an unflagging work ethic. She just wasn't Ranma. She was-

"Akari?" A bolt of fear shot through Ryoga. If thinking about Akari meant that he traveled to her, _too_, then what did that say about the strength of his love for Ranma?  
"You found me, Ryoga," Akari said playfully. More accurately, she had found him: she had met him in Nerima, she knew that he lived in Nerima, and he was a block from the high school she knew his friends went to. It hadn't been too difficult.

"I – I did, didn't I?" Ryoga stammered, looking pale.

"I haven't seen you in a while," Akari mentioned casually, one hand on her floppy straw hat. The other reached out and clasped Ryoga's sweaty hand tightly.

"I've been...um..." Had Akari thought that they were dating? It was difficult to say. Ryoga hadn't managed to stay in Akari's company for more than fifteen minutes before getting lost, unless Akari held his hand in a vise grip like she was doing now, and tugged forcibly at him when his feet started to wander. He recalled that most of their dates were spent trying to find one another, trying to keep him from getting lost, or talking about pigs.

Akari wasn't stupid. She knew what it meant when the packages of crackers from Kyoto and the tea samplers from London started arriving less frequently. But she also knew what it took to raise champion pigs, and their champion handlers: good breeding. She wasn't squeamish about acknowledging it; Ryoga was the strongest guy she had ever met, and he was handsome to boot. If she built an extra fence around the property when she inherited it, he wouldn't even get lost, at least not easily.

"Out in the country, we call a spade a spade," Akari said matter-of-factly, lifting her chin in a way she knew would accentuate her dust of healthy-country-girl freckles. "And Ryoga, this spade likes you."

She tugged Ryoga closer, got on her tiptoes, and kissed him softly on the lips. "I've missed you."

* * *

There was a knock on the door. "Ready to go, Akane?"

Akane gave the yellow dress one more uncertain tug and opened the door shyly. She gasped. "Daisies?"

"Sure, for a sweet girl like you."

Akane accepted the pot of daisies in bewilderment. "Um, that's really...nice of you, Ranma." She shoved aside her makeup collection and set it on her dresser. "All right, um, shall we go?"

Ranma offered her his arm. "I have a treat," he said. "I know this great okonomiyaki place."

"Uh...you mean, Ucchan's?" Akane asked with trepidation, slipping her hand inside Ranma's elbow.

"Yeah," Ranma answered. "Don't worry, Akane, Ucchan's not going to give us any trouble."

Akane fidgeted in her chair as Ukyo glared daggers at her. And why was Shampoo eating here, too? Didn't she have a restaurant of her own to mind?

The chef made a special point to serve their okonomiyaki herself, and as Ranma bent his head over his plate, Ukyo leaned towards Akane and hissed in her ear, "_Ryoga_, huh?"

Akane shook her head, unable to respond.

"Looks like you were wrong, _sugar_."

"Wrong about what?" Ranma asked innocently, but his brows were creased. "Hey. Ucchan. I've got something for you."

Ukyo's eyes went round in an expression that even Akane had to admit was pretty cute. She bounced over to Ranma's side. "Yes, Ran-chan?"

Two tables over, Shampoo rose. She walked until she was a step or two back from Ranma and crossed her arms.

Akane scooted her chair a fraction back from the table. Shampoo had better not try anything.

Ranma reached into his shirt and pulled out an envelope. "Ucchan. For you."

Akane looked on with curiosity and a little jealousy as Ukyo ripped open the top. "Really, Ranma, you didn't have to get me anything," Ukyo chattered excitedly. "Is it a card? Is it –"  
Ukyo's face fell like the toppings off of a raw okonomiyaki. Shampoo and Akane both craned their necks, and Akane caught a glimpse of the paper. It was a cashier's check.

"For your dad's cart, plus interest. Nabiki figured it for me. It turns out I'd saved up enough." Ranma held a second envelope out to Shampoo, who took it by the very corner as thought it might bite. "For that feast I ate. Plus interest. Kill me or take the check – either way you ain't gonna marry me."

Shampoo shook the envelope as though she couldn't figure out how to drop it. "Airen?" she asked, disbelieving tears welling up in her eyes.

Akane, meanwhile, was staring at Ranma in shock.

"Sorry Ucchan, Shampoo. I just wanted to make it clear that Akane's the girl I'm going to marry. Would you mind leaving the two of us alone for a while?"

Ukyo's blood roared through her ears. It was unbelievably coarse. Ranma was paying them off. But then, what could he do? What could they do? Ukyo's heart had been doing flip-flops for the past several years: I hate him – I love him – he loves Akane – he loves Shampoo- he loves Ryoga. Her heart had finally given in to what she had thought was the truth the other day, and she had been prepared to make a scene over how Akane had lied to her. But this new development was one too many.

Now Ukyo's business mind was telling her to cut her losses. She could buy a better grill top with this money, and do some much-needed renovation to the kitchen and to the outside of the shop. She could have a new awning, and a splashier sign. She looked at Ranma and read nothing but resolve on his face. Maybe there was some pity there, too.

Ukyo didn't want to see it. Could they plan some more exploding okonomiyaki to throw at Akane? Been there, done that, hadn't worked. And this new, direct Ranma, whoever he was, would probably never talk to Ukyo again.

Ukyo glanced at Shampoo, who was standing stock-still, her lower lip trembling. Suddenly, the Amazon shook herself, her purple hair twitching, and straightened up. She gave Ranma a cool look. "Thank you," she said formally, if somewhat wobbly. She turned around very slowly and began walking away, elegant and composed.

Ukyo looked to see how Ranma was taking this, but Ranma had already turned back to Akane, and wasn't even paying attention to his one-time fiancee's exit.

"Later, Ranchan," Ukyo muttered, and scurried back toward the kitchen before her customers could see her cry.

Akane stared at Ranma. Had he really just- Had she really seen- Did he really mean-?

"_Ranma?_"

Ranma smiled at her and reached out to take her hand. "I love you, Akane."

Akane knew she must look like a fool with her mouth hanging open.

"And I have something for you, too." He pulled out a small box.

"Is that – another one of your mother's pillboxes?" Akane asked, her throat dry. Auntie Saotome had given her a pillbox that looked exactly like a ring box, for the Anything-Goes-mayhem-produced headaches that Saotome women had to endure. She didn't know quite why, but she was praying that it _was_, and that Ranma would laugh as he showed her how to pop off the fake top.

"Akane..."

_ Here it comes..._

"Will you marry me?"

* * *

Genma lay on his back, panting, as Nodoka ran a hand lazily over his chest.

"Genma-san, is there anything...interesting...you'd like to tell me about Ranma?"

Genma had been about to drift off to sleep, but now his mind snapped to full-alert. "Why, Nodo-san, what do you mean?"

"Oh, Genma, you crafty panda bear." Nodoka gave a tinkling laugh that Genma found quite frightening. "I mean that you have spent ten more years with Ranma than I have. Surely you know him a little better than I do."

"Er...yes, dear, I suppose so..."

"So if I have noticed something...interesting...then no doubt you will have noticed it, too?"

Genma felt himself breaking out in fresh sweat. "Er...did you have something specific in mind, Nodoka-sweetheart?"

Nodoka smiled benignly and went in for the kill: "Genma-san, have you noticed that Ranma sometimes acts like a girl?"

Genma froze. "The boy is cursed, of course."  
"Oh, I don't mean that." Nodoka straightened a hair on Genma's chest. "I mean, not only does he have a girl's body, but he also sometimes acts like a girl." She giggled. "I think he may be in love with a boy."

If Genma had been Soun, he might have already run off howling. Genma looked anxiously at Nodoka, but one hand was propping her up on her side, and the other was on his chest. The katana was nowhere to be seen. He answered cautiously. "What makes you say that, Nodoka-san?"

"Oh, this and that." Her face turned serious. "We must speak with Tendo-san, of course. If Ranma is in love with a boy, he can't possibly marry one of the Tendo girls. Not even Kasumi," Nodoka sighed sadly. She gazed adoringly up at her husband's nose hairs. "Genma-san, you _will_ speak with Tendo-san, _won't you?_"

* * *

Nabiki had the picture poised in one hand. The other was suspended above her calculator, but her manicured fingernails refused to fall.

Nabiki felt utterly sick.

Nabiki had been brooding over this picture for days. The pinhole camera had not caught Ranma and Ryoga kissing, as she thought it might. Instead, it had captured something even better: two people in that moment before they kiss. Ryoga's expression was tender and entreating, his hands outstretched; Ranma's body, even his pigtail, was leaning forward. His eyes were clear and wide, and his lips slightly parted in a way that made even Nabiki tingle.

The problem with the picture, and the reason that Nabiki felt sick, was that the series of pictures after it told the rest of the story: Ranma stepping back; Ranma affecting a coldness that Nabiki could see through perfectly; Ryoga leaving; and Ranma looking absolutely devastated.

The Tendos hadn't seen Ryoga for days.

So, in effect, what Nabiki had captured was heartbreak.

If the glass of water had worked, Nabiki would have sold the picture to Kuno. Since it hadn't, she had been planning to crop Ryoga out of the picture and sell it to Kodachi.

It was such a good idea. Kodachi would be ecstatic over a picture like this. Why had Nabiki suddenly come down with a case of the morals? Had it been listening to Ryoga blather on in that bar like a fool in love? Had it been the shock of seeing Ranma in his funeral clothes, solemnly offering to stab himself to death in front of his friends and family? Was it that sadness around the Tendo dojo that they couldn't place, a feeling like they'd lost a sister somehow?

Whatever it was, Nabiki no longer felt justified in selling the picture. This wasn't Ranma's girl form putting on some show for her own kicks. This was Ranma's guy form, yearning for a kiss that he would literally die before allowing himself to take.

Nabiki slammed open her desk drawer, slapped the picture inside, and shut the drawer with a bang, breathing hard. She hated to lose a profit.

To calm herself, Nabiki took a fresh stack of photos out of a side drawer. Ah, Akane was looking quite beautiful in her new dress. Gosunkugi and the underclassmen would pay a small fortune for these...

"_My daughter!Engaged at last!_"

Nabiki righted herself and her chair from the floor where they'd fallen. She locked her room behind her and walked as casually as she could downstairs.

* * *

"But the dojos! They must be joined!" Soun sobbed heavily, pausing every now and then to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his gi.

"With all due respect, Tendo-san," Genma protested, "your dojo's advanced level is all material that Ranma had mastered by age ten. Joining the dojos will not help us defeat the master."

"My style is not _weak!_" Soun let forth a fresh flood of tears. He tried to enlarge his head into a flaming demon, but even that started weeping, and deflated pathetically.

Genma handed Soun another cup of sake. "There, there, it's fine for what it is. Pays the bills and all. But we wanted to join our schools in order to defeat the master. I think it would be better if your school stayed uninvolved at all. The master will not target it on its own."  
"But my girls! They will be penniless_ spinsters!_"

"Now, now. Kasumi-chan may marry a doctor, Nabiki-chan will hardly be penniless, and Akane-chan has always had suitors in school..."

"What! Akane-chan is falling prey to men! She must be married before she is spoiled forever!"

Genma backpedaled in alarm. "I mean, Akane-chan is virtuous and, um, energetic. She is sure to make a good match for some boy."  
"I thought at least one of my girls would be spoken for. I thought that a father's worry would be lifted for me for one of my darling daughters, at least! And now I find that even that hope has been dashed for my soul!"

"Tendo-san ," Genma pleaded, "if the boy were acting like a boy, he _would_ marry one of your daughters. But, since he acts like a girl, it doesn't make sense. If Nodoka-san and I had had a daughter, would you have wanted her to marry one of your daughters? Of course not."

Soun gulped noisily. "I need – another drink-"

The door banged open, and to Genma's surprise, Ranma stepped in beaming. He tugged Akane through the doorway.

Soun swayed and blinked hazily at Genma. "The boy doesn't _look_ like he's acting like a girl."

Ranma grinned. "Yo, Pops, mark your calendar." He waved Akane's left hand at the two of them, where Nodoka's mother's jade and diamond ring, entrusted to Ranma at the time of the failed wedding, winked hypnotizingly back at them.

Genma couldn't move, but Soun leapt up, sloshing sake everywhere. "My daughter!" he cried, tears sparkling on his cheeks. "Engaged at last!"

* * *

"He did _what?_"

Kasumi caught Nabiki gently at the elbow. "Shh. They might hear you."

Nabiki looked out the window and did a double take. "Are they – _sparring?_"

"Yes." Kasumi looked troubled, and Nabiki noticed that her cucumber slices were all different widths.

"We've got to stop them."

Kasumi shook her head. "How?" she asked hopelessly, wiping one eye with the back of her hand and cutting more uneven slices from the cucumber. "Father is so happy. And Akane-chan and Ranma-kun certainly _look_ happy. Maybe we were wrong."

Nabiki's eyes flashed. "_Wrong?_" She darted upstairs, wrenched the key in the lock to her room, and grabbed the photograph from her desk drawer. She pounded downstairs and brandished the picture at Kasumi. "'Neechan, _look_ at this. Just _look_ at it."

"Oh, my."

"_Now_ tell me we're wrong."  
Kasumi had reached the end of the cucumber, and Nabiki grabbed her sister's hand to keep the knife from coming down one extra, unnecessary chop.

Kasumi rested the tip of the knife on the cutting board. "But what do we do?"

"I'll think of something," Nabiki said confidently, wishing she had already thought of an idea. "Just give me a little time, okay?"

Kasumi nodded. "All right."

* * *

Ranma didn't let Akane's father exclaim over her for long. He dragged Akane straight through the parlor and out the other side, and around to the dojo.

"Yo, tomboy, wanna spar?"

What, spar? With Ranma?

"You mean _really_ spar?" Akane asked, not daring to hope. "Not just you dodging me?"

"Sure," Ranma said easily, stripping off his button-down shirt to reveal his black tank top underneath.

"But my dress – I've got to get changed –"

"Go ahead."  
Akane raced to the furo and lifted this morning's gi out of the hamper, where it had been resting on top. There was no time to waste going upstairs for a fresh one. She inched the zipper on her dress down as fast as she could and threw the gi on, tying the flaps shut but not bothering to look for a belt. She draped her precious dress over a towel bar and ran back outside.

Ranma was still waiting.

"Okay, Tendo, let's see what you've got."

Seeing Ranma coming towards her in an attack, even though he was moving at a small fraction of his normal speed, was so foreign to Akane that she couldn't move. His first punch clipped her shoulder, and he pulled the others back. "Come on, tomboy, block."

"O-okay." _He actually _hit _me?_ Akane's mind was racing, but her limbs felt like they were pulling through butter.

"What's the matter, Akane? There's nothing to be afraid of."

_Move, Akane!_ Akane screamed inwardly at herself. _This is what you've been waiting for for years!_

Akane began a timid counterattack.

Ranma gave Akane a smile that nearly turned her into a gelatin wreck again. "Atta girl."

_I have to start fighting like I mean it, or he won't ever spar with me again!_ But, Akane was having a difficult time thinking of something that made her angry. Today was going along just perfectly. _Do something! Anything! Pretend he's someone else. Pretend he's Ryoga!_

Akane screamed and charged.

Ranma grinned even wider, and met her attack head on.

* * *

Akane finally admitted to herself that if she ever wanted to take more than two deep breaths together again, she would have to call it quits. "Ranma," she panted, "I've got to stop."

Ranma wound down his attack pattern, throwing a few kicks at the air beside him, and his posture relaxed. "Take a break, or call it a night?"

Oh...she was allowed to take breaks? "Let's call it a night," Akane gasped, stretching out her hamstring as her mind tried to catch up with everything that had just happened. Sparring with Ranma was – wow. Akane had never fought like that in her life. She could feel her technique improving. Ranma's teaching style was definitely hands-on and one-on-one.

Akane walked over to where Ranma was stretching at a tree. "Ranma," she began shyly. "Thanks."

Ranma's eyes were luminous in the setting sun. "We're not done yet," he said in a low voice.

Akane felt her knees wobble. "What?"

Ranma stood up fully, pressed Akane to the tree, and kissed her on the lips.

Akane opened her eyes in astonishment as Ranma broke off the kiss. What had happened to the awkwardness between them, just a few days ago?

Ranma bared his teeth at her. "Like it?"

And why did Ranma keep grinning and baring his teeth? And why was he being so sweet to her? Flowers? A _date?_ A _ring?_ _Sparring?_

The thought hit her, and the enormity of it nearly made her vision cloud. "Ranma – I – it's been a great night – thank you – I'll see you in the – in the morning!" Akane pushed at Ranma's arm and he moved it out of the way, allowing Akane to slide out from between him and the tree. "Good night, Ranma," Akane said, her heart pounding, and she could hear him start to whistle as she raced away.

Akane bumped straight into someone upstairs, and long fingers clamped around her wrist.

Nabiki pushed Akane into her bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind her. Kasumi was already sitting on the bed. "Little sister, we need to talk."

Akane collapsed into Nabiki's desk chair. She wrenched the ring off of her sweaty, puffy finger and set it on the desk.

Nabiki's train of thought was interrupted. "Wow, sis, that thing's worth a mint. Are you telling me you were dumb enough to spar with it on?"

Kasumi coughed lightly.

"Right," Nabiki continued. "As I was about to say –"  
"Oh, be quiet!" Akane said forcefully, trembling with her realization. She could feel her hair start to steam.

Nabiki narrowed her eyes at her sister and turned on her desk fan. "Looks like you need to cool down."

Akane started to sneeze and cry at the same time, and Nabiki shut off the fan in a hurry.

Kasumi rose quickly from her perch. "Akane-chan, are you upset?"

Akane didn't know how to answer. Her perfect date was crumbling into jagged pieces, and each one of them tore a sliver off of her sense of self.

"Akane-chan..." Kasumi's eyes were serious. She smoothed back Akane's bangs tenderly. "Did Ranma-kun hurt you?"

"Yes," Akane began. "It's not like that," she amended quickly, hearing Kasumi's intake of breath and Nabiki's hiss of surprise. "He didn't _hurt_ me. But he's – I figured it out. Why he's been so nice to me since...you know..." Ranma had been increasingly kind and even charming to Akane since the day the contract was destroyed, culminating in this afternoon's date.

Akane rubbed at the goosebumps on her arms.

"And why is that?" Nabiki prompted, lounging against her dresser.

Akane took a shuddering breath. "He's pretending he's Ryoga," she managed, hearing the words as though from far away. "And he's pretending I'm him."

Akane wanted to start crying again, but Kasumi gripped both sides of Akane's face, surprising Akane out of her tears.

"Akane-chan," Kasumi commanded softly. "Look at me."

Akane didn't have a choice.

"Ranma-kun was wrong to do that. He is wrong to use you like this. He is hurt and confused, and wrong. But it does not reflect on you. You are the same Akane you have always been. You are no less desirable just because he wants someone else."

Kasumi let go of Akane's face and Akane dropped her face into her hands. "But it was so perfect," Akane sighed, on the brink of tears again. "It was everything I'd dreamed of. We even _sparred_. But it wasn't for me. And I fell for it. I fell so hard for it. I _believed_ him."

"And he would have wanted you to believe it," Kasumi said, kneeling by Akane, her very presence siphoning off Akane's anger, "now, and after you got married, and forever. He is not trying to be cruel. He thinks he _must_ court you, so he is trying to court you with as much sincerity as he can. I think this is the only way he knows how."

"And, ironically, it is incredibly insincere," Nabiki added, smirking to cover how unbalanced she felt. She was used to Ranma being a constant, and over the past few weeks he had turned into an entirely unpredictable variable.

"But I love him..."

"And he loves you. Akane-chan." Kasumi held up the ring. "Step very carefully. You are one of Ranma's closest friends. If you can put aside your hurt for just a little while, perhaps you can help him more than anyone else."

* * *

Akane sagged against the front stoop. Presumably, at this very moment, Hiroshi was hearing that Ranma and Akane were engaged, without knowing what Akane knew about Ranma's behavior. Akane knew she ought to be appalled, but after days of marathon sparring sessions, she was too tired to care.

For days, Akane had been acting exactly as Kasumi had suggested, which meant playing along with Ranma's game. It was awful, having to smile and laugh and pretend to be having a great time, especially because she knew that if she _hadn't_ figured it out, she _would_ be having a great time. She could sense that Ranma knew things weren't quite right, but he seemed content enough to play his own part.

They were not alone in their acting, it seemed: Kasumi smiled and said she was happy Ranma was looking better, but she burned the rice an awful lot. Nabiki was as stone-faced as ever, but Akane had caught her losing her cool on the phone, snapping at Kuno to forget the pigtailed goddess already. Uncle Saotome kept losing at shogi to Akane's father, of all people. It was difficult to tell about Auntie Saotome, but her eyes were drooping ever-so-slightly at the corners, in exactly the way that Ranma's sometimes did. The only person who seemed genuinely cheerful was Akane's father, who was coming up the walk right now.

"Akane-chan!" Soun exclaimed genially. "How is my engaged daughter today?"

Akane wriggled herself upright with an effort. "Fine, Daddy." Her father had just emptied the mailbox and was shuffling through the contents. One of the envelopes caught his eye, and he took a ballpoint pen from behind his ear and scribbled on the envelope hastily.

"Wrong name," Akane's father said by way of explanation, turning smartly and popping the letter back into the mailbox. He raised the little red flag to signal to the mailman that there was a letter to pick up. He came back up the walk and nodded with satisfaction at Akane. "And how is your fiance doing?" Soun looked around. "Not around today?"

"No, Daddy, he's out with a friend. A guy friend," Akane added wearily, seeing her father's upraised finger, and his mouth open to lecture her on her duty to not let her fiance go astray.

_Of course, Ranma isn't necessarily "safe" with certain guy friends, either_, Akane thought to in her father's direction, once she had exhausted her repertoire of wedding small-talk with her father, and he had gone inside. She'd let her deep-seated desire for Ranma's attention fool her, but she wasn't fooled any more.

Ranma, unlike Akane, was a generally calm person. He was given to drama, but not to histrionics. He certainly wouldn't have screamed and cried the way he had at his and Ryoga's last fight unless he'd meant it. Akane had therefore been stunned when he'd later asked her on a date. Now, after days of receiving the attention that she knew Ranma wished Ryoga were showering on him, Akane knew that Ranma wanted Ryoga to spend _a lot_ of time with him - and to kiss him a lot.

The thought of Ryoga made Akane's mind squirm with embarrassment. Ryoga and Ranma? If she hadn't been living the part, she would have kept on denying it. They were both guys, for goodness' sake. Wasn't there something wrong with that?

Although Akane would only admit it to her secret self, a part of her wished she could slap Ranma around some and tell him just how sick and perverted he was to be thinking about dating Ryoga. "You're a guy! You must be crazy!" And then, and even her super-secret self shrank from admitting this, Akane would step in as Ranma's _true_ love.

_That's the way it was supposed to work all along anyway, _Akane thought to herself sadly. _Akane Saotome. That was supposed to be me._

Instead, Akane was stuck in a charade that scraped across her nerves like a carrot grater.

It was no longer acceptable to hit Ranma, though. Akane could almost see in her mind's eye: _Why did you hit him this time?_ Hiroshi would say, his eyes growing cold. _Your anger does not impress me._

That line had become Akane's mantra through this trying week. She hadn't even hit Ryoga, though when she had first found out he was P-chan, she thought he richly deserved it. Now, however, she was proud that she had kept her temper.

Akane had been livid when Ryoga had declared that he'd done nothing wrong. It should have been up to Akane to decide that! On the other hand, after some reflection, Akane had arrived at the surprising conclusion that in fact Ryoga had compromised Akane's integrity neither physically nor emotionally.

This was slightly disappointing, because for once Akane had every socially acceptable reason to clobber someone. However, it was true: Ryoga had looked away when Akane had changed, which was a surprising behavior in a piglet, but one which Akane had never questioned before. He had obviously never turned into human form around her. And, not the least importantly, he had not allowed her to say anything that she would have regretted having shared. Whenever she had been about to tell P-chan anything embarrassing, for instance, that she wished she could kiss Ranma, the little piglet would immediately start weeping, running around in circles, scratching to be let out of the room, or all three. Ryoga had been a pretty manly pig.

_If that's even possible._ Akane smiled to herself. Really, how could she have not known? She felt both insanely flattered and incredibly stupid. A boy had liked her enough to pretend to be her pet pig for years, just to be around her? That was flattering. The pig wore the same bandanna that she had only ever seen on Ryoga's head, and was only around when Ryoga wasn't, and had nodded staunchly whenever she had sobbed that Ranma was a jerk? She must have been blind.

So, Ryoga turned into a pig, and Ranma turned into a girl? When it came right down to it, those two weirdos were a good match for each other.

There was a noise behind her, and Akane looked up to see Kasumi poking her head through the screen door.

"Oh, good. Akane-chan, would you mind putting these in the mailbox for me?"

Akane nodded, and Kasumi handed her a stack of postcards wrapped in a rubber band. "Thank you." Kasumi disappeared back inside.

Akane hauled herself upright and thumbed through the postcards as she strolled towards the mailbox. They were all addressed to Ryoga, at different zip codes. They must have taken Kasumi at least an hour to prepare, and were costing a sizeable sum in postage. Kasumi had written the same lines neatly on each one: _Dear Ryoga-kun, Please return at your earliest convenience. Regards, Kasumi Tendo._

Akane opened the mailbox and was about to drop the postcards in when her eyes, sensitized to Ryoga's name, caught sight of something: the envelope that her father had rejected. The name on the return address was Ryoga Hibiki.

Akane balanced the postcards on top of the mailbox and withdrew the letter, her hand shaking. She knew a split second before she read it that the name her father had crossed out and replaced with Return to Sender would be Ranma Saotome. Her father had been entirely accurate; it _was_ the wrong name. While the Saotome family spent a lot of time at her house, they technically didn't live there. But, it was entirely possible that Ryoga had never seen the Saotome house, and didn't know where it was. That would explain why he was writing to Ranma, "care of Tendo Dojo."

_Well, Daddy was about to take 'care' of the letter, all right._

Akane felt her skin begin to heat up in that familiar way. She was about to storm through the door after her father when she heard Hiroshi's voice in her head, saying briskly, "'Kane-chan, do something constructive for a change."

Akane stopped in her tracks, trying to think of what the constructive thing to do would be. Nabiki would know.

* * *

Soun smiled down at the shogi board with satisfaction. It was no trouble figuring out what his next move should be, since Genma was playing so poorly. _Or I am playing better than I used to._

The world was looking brighter these days. Akane was about to get married. The schools would be united. The dojo would be secure.

Soun burned with impatience to have the wedding safely over and done with. He remembered his own youth, and couldn't understand why Ranma and Akane hadn't compromised themselves by now. Ranma's lovelorn friend had been writing to Ranma steadily, in an inky display that was more in line with Soun's notions of teenage love. Soun was feeling quite proud that he was nipping that complication in the bud. Ranma needed no distractions in his pursuit of Akane. On the other hand, the wild young stallion had certainly changed these past few days. The way he had been acting towards Akane lately, maybe the two of them _would_ be "married" before long. _It's about time._

Genma was still frowning over the board, so Soun decided he could split his attention for just a little while. "Kasumi-chan!" Soun called.

"Yes, Father?"

"How soon can the dry-cleaners have your sister's dress ready?"

"Oh." Kasumi came out of the kitchen, dusting some flour off of her hands. She clasped her hands behind her back. "About the dress, Father, Auntie Nodoka and I were discussing this. We think Akane should have a new dress."

"A new dress!" Never mind the expense; with all of the women flittering and nattering, it could take months for them to settle on a new dress. And – well, and the _expense!_

"Yes. Oh, and she's decided on a kimono."

"She already _has_ a kimono, too!"

"No, Father, that was Mother's kimono."

"So? Don't my girls like to dress up in their mother's things anymore?" Soun had a sudden image of his three girls draped in their mother's dresses, wobbling on her sandals. His wife was smiling at them, and looked up to smile at him. _She would be so proud to know that Akane-chan is getting married._

Kasumi caught her breath with the same memory, and wiped her face with the back of her hand, leaving a dusty white streak. "Yes, Father, of course. But." Kasumi paused, as though considering something.

"But?"

"But I am the eldest. It is my right to wear that kimono. Not Akane's."

Even Genma looked up at that statement.

Soun blinked at his eldest daughter in surprise. "Kasumi-chan, I had no idea you felt that way." He could already see the yen notes floating away to purchase a new dress for Akane. Kasumi was such a good girl. She asked for so little – for nothing, really, except for housekeeping money – that of course he ought to honor her wishes on this matter. "Very well, Kasumi-chan. If Akane-chan disagrees, have her talk to me." A happy thought occurred to him. "Is there some young man we should know about?" he asked hopefully.

Kasumi smiled. "Not yet, Father, but I will tell you when there is."

Soun nodded. He would have been happy if there had been, but on the other hand, he didn't mind having Kasumi around to keep house. Let Akane and Nabiki get married first. "All right. When will you be buying this new kimono?"

Kasumi smiled again. "Saotome-sama and I are making it. Don't worry, Father, we think it will turn out well."

"Soun, it's your turn," Genma growled.

Kasumi went back into the kitchen.

As Soun contemplated the board, an alarming thought occurred to him: Kasumi didn't own a sewing machine. Surely they wouldn't be sewing the kimono by hand?

* * *

What was it about Ranma that he could scratch his neck and mention that he'd just stolen your on-again-off-again girlfriend, for keeps, and yet you _still_ couldn't get mad at him? Well, maybe it had something to do with the fact that you had been dating _his_ _fiancee_, but these were mere technicalities in the modern-day world, right?

"So, you're not too upset?" Ranma's brows were creased in a nervous, puppy-like way.

"I am, of course, but...you gotta do what you gotta do." Hiroshi looked out at the sailboats. "Is Akane happy?"

"She, um, she misses you. But, she said yes."  
Hiroshi hadn't known he was a masochist until now, when the urge to twist the knife in his own gaping wound overcame him: "Tell me about it."

Ranma seemed all too eager to talk. "I asked her the question, and opened the box at the same time. She was really quiet for a while, so I was getting worried, so I asked, 'C'mon, Akane, do you love me or what?' or something like that – and she said 'yes,' and held out her hand, and I put the ring on her finger." Ranma beamed and puffed out his chest. "I'm a pretty lucky guy, huh?"

Hiroshi stared at Ranma. Did he really not understand what Akane had said 'yes' to? Or did he understand and not care? Or was he pretending not to understand because it fit his plan? Or, was Ranma really letting Hiroshi know that Akane was still in love with Hiroshi, even though she was agreeing to marry Ranma? Was Ranma really that subtle?

Hiroshi's temples started to pound. Or, was he reading way too much into this, based on what Akane had told him about Ranma and Ryoga's last fight?

But, there was something to this 'aw, shucks' Ranma that seemed like an elaborate act. Even if you did get engaged to the girl of your dreams, how could that happiness wipe out a year of wondering whether your mother was going to kill you? This Ranma was a caricature of the childish Ranma that Hiroshi had met at sixteen.

"Ranma..." Hiroshi kept his voice low. "You and I have been buds for a while."

"Sure." Ranma punched Hiroshi playfully in the arm.

"You can tell me that you love Ryoga, and that this is all a lie."

Neither of them had moved, but to Hiroshi it felt like walking into a gale. All of Ranma's bubbly pretense was gone.

_ "What would you do if you were me, huh?"_ Ranma sprang to his feet, fists clenched.

Hiroshi wanted badly to zip up his jacket, but felt strongly that if he moved, it might be fatal.

Ranma took a few deep breaths and looked off at the waves. "You're gonna tell me Akane doesn't love me that way, huh? How 'bout I tell you I already figured that one out. So I get to ruin her life, and your life, and mine. I don't care about mine, but Akane's? I've been willing to die for her since I met her. I tried that _first_. But they wouldn't let me. So now I gotta do the honorable thing, the second honorable thing, which is to marry her, like Pops promised."

Ranma made an impatient motion with his hand that uprooted a dandelion a foot away, and Hiroshi winced.

"Besides," and Ranma smirked coldly, which was perhaps the ugliest and most frightening expression that Hiroshi had ever seen on him, "she seemed happy enough last night."

Goosebumps broke out on Hiroshi's arms, and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. "Ranma..."

"I've been _in her bed_," Ranma offered, completely truthfully.

Hiroshi willed himself to keep calm and not be baited. "Akane'd be mad if she knew you were using her this way," he said with forced offhandedness. Ranma wouldn't really have slept with Akane, would he have? Not until they were married at least.

Hiroshi dug his hands into the dirt. They would be no good defending against Ranma, anyway. He hoped their friendship would survive what he was about to say... "Ryoga wouldn't like it either."

For a second Hiroshi thought he'd made a horrible mistake, and he held his breath.

But the wind that had started whipping around Ranma's body died down. "I don't care what he thinks," he said tiredly. "Ryoga's history, okay?" Ranma sat down with a thump. "You tell me, what would you do? How would you keep my mother happy, keep my honor, keep Akane's honor?"

Hiroshi drew a folder out of his bag, trembling with the sudden rush of adrenaline and relief. "Ranma, about your mom..."

Hiroshi froze in place as Ranma's eyes skewered him. "What about my mom?" Ranma began, dangerously.

Hiroshi swallowed. "She, um. Here. Look at this."

"What about this?" Ranma accepted the piece of paper with a frown. "What are all these little dots?"

"This is a star chart," Hiroshi said. He drew out another paper. "Those are the real ones, and this is a photocopy of your mom's. Akane made it for me."

"So?"

Hiroshi tapped a star. "That one, and that one, and a bunch of others..." He held the second chart up beside the first. "These stars line up in your mother's chart, and they've been circled..."

"But?"

"But they're not real." Hiroshi took a breath. "I think your mother faked the chart. I think whenever that contract was destroyed, she was just going to take out the chart and proclaim it was a fated accident."

Ranma uncurled onto the hill like a bulldozer tread and spread out his arms. "What do you mean?" he asked, closing his eyes.

"I mean she was trying all along to destroy the contract. She wanted it to be destroyed, and to look like an accident." Hiroshi paused. "Ranma? Ranma?"

Hiroshi's voice echoed in Ranma's ears, but Ranma ignored it. His mother had installed the safety shields on a number of her power tools this week. She hadn't run into any mulching machines or suggested any bonfires. Could Hiroshi be right about this? Hiroshi knew his stars. He wouldn't lie just to make Ranma feel better – after all, Hiroshi had been pretty direct just now about Ryoga...

There was a shuffle beside him as Hiroshi rose. "Ranma, I'm going to go home, but I'll leave these with you." There were a few seconds of silence. Then, "I won't go see Akane, either, but I can't control what she decides to do on her own. Let me know how it goes between you two, okay?" Hiroshi waited for a moment, but when Ranma didn't answer, his footsteps walked away.

Ranma lay on the grass for what seemed like a small eternity.

Even if Hiroshi was right, that still didn't make a difference. Ranma's mother had been holding a blade over his head since before they'd reunited. People, being Akane, and now Hiroshi, assumed Ranma was broken up because he couldn't have Ryoga. That wasn't it. Ranma had resigned himself to the fact that an honorable man couldn't love another man _that way_, the way that went beyond the acceptable bond of brothers-at-arms, in this lifetime. A true martial artist could live with some earthly pain, and this was to be Ranma's.

It was another pain that was tearing at Ranma, and Hiroshi's news didn't soothe it. If Ranma's mother had really wanted to accept Ranma's girl side, she should have torn up the contract the minute she'd found out. Ranma wasn't sure what his mother wanted now, but he didn't trust her, and that left something raw and flayed-feeling inside his chest.

Unless...maybe Ranma's mother had been trapped the same way Ranma had been trapped with Akane: all those rude things he'd said to Akane, trying to be manly – and what did he know about that? Pops, and manga, and saying the first thing that popped into his head, to cover up his desperate feelings for her. He'd teased Ryoga that Ryoga thought of Akane as a mother, but maybe Ranma had, too. Akane's smile was like the sun: _shine on me_, his heart had kept pleading. _Approve of me. Love me._ And then Ranma's own mother had arrived.

_Maybe it's as hard to be a martial artist's wife as it is to be a martial artist._ Ranma turned the thought over, testing its value. _Maybe it's hard giving up your only child to the Way, in the care of a man who's as likely as not to pawn the kid for the first okonomiyaki cart he sees. Maybe you try to be extra womanly and extra strict, so no one can say you're not worthy of being a martial artist's wife, or so that you won't admit it to yourself, that you wish your six-year-old were back and your husband were back and that they didn't have to train so long. Maybe you hate being a martial artist's wife._

Ranma got up slowly. He stooped to pick up the star charts, folded them, and put them in his pocket. He had to know...his purposeful walk became a stride, the stride became a jog, and then the jog became a flat out run.

* * *

As soon as Ranma stepped in the door, Soun Tendo grabbed both of his hands, smiling and sobbing. "How wonderful! My son-in-law!"

Ranma had a Cologne-inspired aversion to that phrase, and extricated himself as politely as he could, bowing. "Tendo-san." He tried to look past the man's shoulder. "Is my mother in?"

"Of course, of course," Soun wept, ushering him in. "She is going over some of the wedding details with Kasumi."  
Ranma was happy to steer Soun back to the shogi board, and entered the kitchen.

Kasumi and Ranma's mother both jumped slightly when Ranma appeared in the doorway.

"Ranma-kun," Nodoka said warmly. She held up two fashion magazines. "Western-style tuxedo, or Japanese-style?"

Ranma blinked back sudden tears. His mother still wanted him to marry Akane. "I dunno..."

Nodoka picked up the ruler from beside her and searched along the side of what looked like a large matrix on the paper. "So many pros and cons," she murmured, checking off a few boxes with a pencil, and rubbing out a few other X's with the pencil's eraser.

"Mother..."  
"Yes, Ranma-kun?" Nodoka asked brightly.

Ranma didn't know where to start. _Mom, do you mind if I don't marry Akane after all? Do you mind if I change into a girl? Do you mind if I'm in love with my friend Ryoga?_

Ranma chose the coward's way out: "I'm gonna take a bath."

Nodoka's hand reached out, but Ranma pretended not to see it, and left.

* * *

Kasumi took a shuddering breath. She had just finished convincing Akane that she did not, in fact, have any notion of keeping Akane out of Mother's kimono, and that in sewing a new kimono by hand, they were stalling for time. Now there was something to do that would be far more difficult. She smoothed her hands over her apron, unfolded the letter, and knocked on the guest room door.

* * *

Ranma crouched low, the sun beating down on her back. A small cloud of dust had formed in the distance, and was getting larger. Ranma wiped away a bead of sweat. She was nervous.

The jeep was now in eyeshot.

Ranma flicked her pigtail over her shoulder. For a brief moment, she thought of lying down and dying. _Let them have me. I don't like this body anyway._

An image of the camp Kasumi had shown her flashed through Ranma's mind, and any thought of giving up was squashed like a mosquito. _If it ain't me, it'll be one of them_, she thought darkly. She watched the jeep approach narrowly. _Beasts._ She remembered Kasumi's instructions: _They must not suspect. You must stay in female form. _

Ranma shaded her face with her tattered veil, hoping her shivers of rage would be taken as fear. She slowly slipped her feet out of their sandals and let the bundle of sticks fall from her back.

The jeep rumbled to a stop, and four impacts bespoke four men jumping eagerly out.

_They will have guns._

From the space between her shawl and her skirt, Ranma knew this was true. She had nothing but distaste for them. Even Taro could appreciate fine combinations and flawless technique. These men wouldn't care.

One of the men said something in a language Ranma didn't understand, but the leer was all-too-evident in his voice. A hand pushed Ranma roughly, expecting to knock her over.

That was the last thing that hand did for a very long time.

* * *

Kasumi sobbed with relief, clamping a hand over her mouth to keep the sound from traveling in the night air.

Ranma paused in his flight, descending lightly down to the kitchen door.

"Kasumi. You waited up?"

Kasumi nodded, her hand on her chest.

"You shouldn't have worried. I was careful." Ranma quirked his lips. "The Kevlar helped."

"Ranma, I'm so sorry I suggested-"

"Don't be," Ranma cut Kasumi off roughly. "I'm not. I figured out your real purpose, though," he said, grinning lopsidedly at her.

Kasumi hung her head. It had been such a dreadful idea.

Strong fingers pressed lightly on Kasumi's chin and tilted her face upwards.

"And I'm grateful to you." Ranma kissed Kasumi lightly on the cheek. "Thank you, Oneechan." Ranma said, his eyes clear and untroubled, and watched Kasumi's back as she stumbled back inside.

* * *

Akane didn't know what Kasumi had said to Ranma, but he seemed more relaxed these days. He was still going out with Akane, and sparring with her, but that taut edge was gone. He was even back teaching at the dojo. After a few rough and incredulous sessions, and after a few stern but gently-delivered words from Kasumi, even the most standoffish of students had accepted their dual Ranma/Ranko-sensei. He seemed to teach in either form these days, as the mood suited him.

Kasumi, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck outside of classes. She'd stopped cooking altogether, and was ordering in from the Nekohanten and Ucchan's Okonomiyaki almost exclusively, much to Akane's annoyance, although she understood Kasumi's argument that the two were closest and had fast delivery. Akane had tried to approach her eldest sister to see what was wrong, but Kasumi would give her half-answers, look at the calendar, and say nothing. Akane had wondered if Kasumi weren't as innocent as she seemed, and if maybe she and the doctor were concerned about an imminent arrival. But, Nabiki had scoffed that idea down immediately, and Nabiki would certainly know...

Akane drummed on the window with her fingernails, trying not to be too annoying, but needing to relieve some tension. She drew the letter out of her purse again for what seemed like the thousandth time, and hoped sincerely that this scheme of Nabiki's would work.

* * *

Ryoga scraped manure off of his boots and placed them carefully by the door. He washed his hands and face down twice before entering the kitchen.

"Hibiki-kun, sit, sit."  
"Good evening, Unryo-san. Thank you." Ryoga took the chair that Akari's grandfather indicated.

Akari smiled from the stove. "Pancakes again," she said cheerfully. "And fresh cutlets. The runt wasn't growing fast enough after all."

Ryoga suppressed a shudder.

"By the way," Akari said casually, flipping a pancake, "there's a letter for you by the door."

Ryoga leapt up, but as soon as he saw the envelope, he felt his heart give a despondent flop. He tucked the envelope into his shirt pocket and sat back down.

"Another Return To Sender, hm?" Akari came over and slid the pancake onto Ryoga's plate with an uncharacteristically sharp clack of her spatula.

Ryoga hardly heard her. One returned letter might have been temper; two might have been stubbornness; but _fourteen?_...Ranma wasn't writing back, and he wasn't going to, either.

Akari's grandfather paused with his pancake halfway to his mouth and eyed Ryoga. "You know, it's nice of you to stay and help with the new litter, son," he said. "Means a lot to us."

Ryoga glanced up. "I'm glad I could be of help."

"And are you ever! No, don't be bashful, son," Akari's grandfather added, seeing Ryoga duck his head. "It's danged fine having a pair of young, strong arms around. You're the only man I've ever seen who can beat that great big pig of Akari-chan's." He coughed. "Any idea how long you're staying?"

"Grandpa!"

Ryoga shook his head. "Until you need me, I guess," he offered. Ranma didn't know any of Ryoga's post office boxes, unless he asked Kasumi. But, there was a slim chance that Ranma would have saved _this_ address to write back to, so Ryoga felt he ought to stay, just in case.

The old man gave Ryoga a hard look, but nodded. "This would be a good life for a martial artist like you," he said. "Train some of the best pigs in the world."

Ryoga gulped, wondering how he was supposed to handle the implication of staying here, forever, presumably with Akari.

Akari walked over with the frying pan. "You do like it here, don't you?" she asked, leaning forward to slide another pancake onto Ryoga's plate, and ignoring her grandfather's empty one.

Ryoga's eyes roved automatically toward the dangling open neck of Akari's loose shirt, and then averted themselves quickly.

In response, Akari leaned over slightly more...

...and Ryoga did the only thing his roiling brain could think of, which was to grab his water glass and dump it in his lap.

The doorbell rang.

Akari heaved a sigh of frustration as the little black piglet struggled to extract itself from Ryoga's clothes. She put down the frying pan and walked over and opened the door. "Unryo residence, how may I help you?"

"Yes, I'm looking for-"

Ryoga poked his head free from the shirt he was swimming in and his piggy eyes widened. _Akane?_

"You!" Akane bit off, catching sight of Ryoga. "Don't think I've forgiven you."

Akari stepped back, eyebrows raised, and put a hand on her hip. "I beg your pardon?"

Akari's grandfather tested the teapot and, finding it lukewarm, proceeded to pour it on Ryoga.

Ryoga snatched up his pants, face burning, and promptly stuck both feet into the same pants leg.

Both girls looked away with twin expressions of impatient distaste as Ryoga sorted out his pants.

"Akane-chan, please, I know I slept with you, but-"  
Ryoga only got that far. Akari's jaw dropped.

Ryoga started groveling. "No, no, Akari-chan, it's not like that!"

"That's right, it's not," Akane said, lamps of revenge shining brightly in her eyes. Akari's horrified eyes swung to Akane unwillingly. "You see," Akane continued, "Ryoga may have _shared my bed_, but he's writing to _someone else entirely_."

"Ryoga?" Akari gasped. "Are you such a womanizer?"

Akane whipped a letter out of her purse. "I have it here." She held it up, just out of Akari's reach.

Ryoga felt something burn behind his eyes, something bright and hot.

Before Ryoga knew it, he was striding forward. "That's mine!" He snatched the letter out of Akane's hand, and then looked slightly to the left of Akari's head, so he wouldn't be distracted by her tears. "Akari, I should have told you and I didn't know how. I've been writing to my boyfriend."

Akari dropped the spatula. "You're a- a- a-?"

"Attached. Yes. I've been trying my best not to give you any mixed signals-"

"You being here at all is a mixed signal!" Akari exclaimed. "How could you play me so false? I thought you were my – my - but you're a- a-" She pointed at Akane. "And what does _she_ have to do with anything?"  
Ryoga couldn't look at Akane. "I'm her pet pig," he mumbled quietly.

"You're her _what?_"

"I'm her pet pig!" Ryoga exclaimed. "She didn't know it was me," he amended lamely.

Akari's eyes were round. "You pretended to really be a pig?" She gasped at Akane, who Ryoga was astounded to notice was grinning broadly, and no longer seeming to be upset. "What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing," Akane said. "By the way, nice fence." She'd liked Akari better before she'd seen it. _Ranma wouldn't need to fence Ryoga in._ But then, seeing Akari's utter confusion, she relented somewhat: "He didn't really sleep with me. Only as a pig."

Akari curled her lip. "That's disgusting."

"A _small_ pig!" Akane cried, her sympathy evaporating. "Whatever. The thing is, he has other things to do. He can't stay here. C'mon, Ryoga." She gestured outside.

Ryoga stared at her, bewildered. "Akane-chan, aren't you mad at me?"

"I was. I got over it."

"Akari-chan..."

"No!" Akari snapped. She knew she was a healthy, young girl. There were plenty of healthy, young boys out there for her. But none of them would be quite so _strong_. "Save it," she said. She squeezed her eyes shut. "And just wait here, I'll be down with your wages." She'd set them aside in a drawer. Maybe a part of her had known he was going to leave, after all.

"I couldn't, Akari-chan. Room and board is enough."

Akari's grandfather nodded at Ryoga approvingly.

"All right," Akari said. She brushed past Akane. "I'll walk you outside."

Ryoga gave a small smile. "I'm glad you're taking this so well, Akari-chan. I was afraid at first that-"

Akari turned the faucet as she went outside, and waited until Ryoga had gotten abreast of her. "You're such a pig!" she howled, spraying him with the hose, and kicked him clear across the front yard into the next street. She sprayed Akane for good measure, too, but Akane only laughed and ran after Ryoga.

Oh, well. It was a pretty hot summer day. Akari wouldn't mind running through a sprinkler herself, if she had time for such childish things. Akari tightened her girl-next-door plaits, waved to Ichiro next door, whose biceps had grown quite a bit since last year, and went upstairs to heave Ryoga's things out the window.

* * *

Ryoga stared at Akane, who was screwing the cap back onto her soup thermos.

"Come on, get dressed. I got your pack from Akari's yard." She hefted the backpack. "What do you _keep_ in here?"

"Everything," Ryoga shrugged. "Stuff I need." He looked around him. "How did you get here, Akane-chan? It's the middle of nowhere."

Akane gave Ryoga an exasperated look. "Ryoga, Akari may live in the country, but she has _neighbors_. She lives on a _street_." She pointed upwards at a small metal sign. "She lives on a _bus line_. Didn't you see any buses go by?"

"Well, yes, but...you never know. I thought they might be in Beijing, you know?"

Akane gave Ryoga another exasperated look. "Never mind, I don't want to know how it works."

Ryoga fastened his belt around his waist. "Why did you come get me?" he asked. He half-dreaded the answer, but Akane looked far too cheerful for it to be bad. "Is it Ranma?" he asked, hope stealing into his voice. "Is he all right? Does he..." _Does he want me back?_

Akane smiled. "I only brought bus fare for myself," she said. "Why don't you just think of him, and bring yourself to him?"

It was as though the sun had risen over the hills. Ryoga savored the delicious feeling of joy spreading through his body. _Ranma_, he thought, seeing Ranma's eyes, and his bright silk shirt. The shirt morphed into a little red dress just as Ranma morphed into his female form, and then back again. Ranma in Ryoga's mind's eye sank into a fighting stance, grinning confidently. _Ranma!_

* * *

Ryoga blinked, dazed, and looked over at the expanse of barren nothingness in horror.

_I've gone the wrong way!_ Ryoga clawed at his face in despair. _It no longer works! Ranma doesn't love me! _His eyes filled with tears. _Ranma! Ranma! Nooooooo!_

Ryoga was surprised that his mental scream was being echoed by real ones, and then a sudden blast of sand sent him flying forward.

Ryoga spat out sand, turned exactly around by looking at his feet and repositioning them, and started running in the direction of the screams.

Sand stung his face, but Ryoga had his eyes closed anyway, since they weren't any good for direction. Something hard knocked into him, and he heard something metallic shear off of his umbrella.

Ryoga chanced a glance. His attacker was too tall to be Ranma. Ryoga struck him hard and kept running.

After several seconds, it occurred to Ryoga that the wind had stopped blowing, and the screams had stopped, too. He opened his eyes. An empty plain stretched out before him.

"Dude, you're facing the wrong way. _Again._"

Ryoga would know that voice in his sleep. He spun around.

A girl in dusty robes limped up to Ryoga, leaving behind her a semicircle of overturned jeeps and a score of unconscious men.

Ryoga scanned Ranma quickly, noticing the limp with anguish, but not noticing any blood. "Ranma! Are you all right?" His eyes refocused dizzily on the sandblasted wreckage. "Who are all those men? What are you doing out here?"

"Let's leave 'em here. They're lame-sauce. I'll explain later." Ranma staggered forward into Ryoga's waiting arms. "C'mon Ryoga," he said. "Let's go home."


	12. old version Chapter 10

A/N: I might go back and flesh this out a bit more later, since it's a bit sketchy, but this is basically where I wanted it to go.

* * *

Akane peeked in around the kitchen door. "Hello, Kasumi," she whispered. "Where are Ranma and Ryoga?"

Kasumi put her potholder down on the burner, and the cotton immediately started to smoke.

Akane dashed into the kitchen and flung the potholder into the sink, dousing it with a spray of cold water. "Honestly, Kasumi, you're getting as bad as Auntie Nodoka. Worse, even. She hasn't done this stuff in weeks."

Kasumi gripped the handle of the oven door as though finding comfort from it. "Ranma-kun's not back," she said in a strangled voice. "I don't know where Ryoga-kun is."

"Yes, all right, Ranma's off on some mission. What's so bad about that?" Akane looked at her sister suspiciously. Fingers of doubt began to creep up Akane's scalp and down her back. Had she just been so relieved to have hyperactive, hyper-but insincerely-romantic Ranma out of her hair, that she hadn't put something crucial together? "Kasumi? Do you know something about this?"

Kasumi started to cry.

* * *

"It was like lighting a fire under my butt. Kasumi did it to get me comfortable in my girl form again, and to keep me from feelin' sorry for myself." Ranma pulled Ryoga's arm around her more tightly. At this moment, she could barely remember why she had felt sorry for herself in the first place.

"And it worked?" Ryoga's voice blew gently over Ranma's ear.

Ranma snuggled closer. "It worked."

Ranma caught sight of the college-aged couple in the bunk next to her, also staying at the youth hostel for the night. Passing out in Ryoga's arms had been a marvelously bad idea, since Ryoga had landed them who-knows-where, but apparently Ryoga had a travel guide of hostels in all the major cities, and, by asking patiently, could string together enough people going in the right direction, the last one of which would could take him directly to the hostel door.

Ranma had woken up as a guy, in too-large clothes that must have been Ryoga's, and that were thankfully clean – or at least, had been clean when Ryoga had stuffed them into his backpack, however long ago that may have been. There had been a couple of stares and rude comments at first; Ranma couldn't understand the language, but he could understand the tone, and could guess what was being said: two guys under a blanket, sharing a bunk? Ryoga hadn't heard them, because the size of his biceps encouraged whispers rather than confrontations, but Ranma had had his eyes closed and could do nothing but hear.

Ranma allowed herself a small smirk. Those voices had sure changed course when she had come out of the shower, obviously a girl. Then her elation faded. _Oh, yeah. I'm really a guy. And I'm engaged to a girl._ That's why she'd been depressed.

Well, Ranma would pick that worry back up tomorrow. Right now, she was worn out. The battles with those thugs had gotten increasingly difficult. Ranma's task had been to distract the worst of them, leaving the real women in the camp free to gather firewood and water. The predators had responded all too eagerly, egged on by the challenge of a beautiful girl fighter, and then warily, wondering if she were perhaps many different girls, and if all of the girls in the camp were similarly dangerous. Ranma felt like spitting. There was no glory in fighting dirt. This last battle had been to break them altogether, at least until the peace-keeping force could arrive.

Ranma closed her eyes wearily. She hoped it had worked. She would reward herself with one night's perfectly blissful sleep in Ryoga's arms before she headed home to resume her charade. Just one.

* * *

Ryoga woke alone and unsurprised. He let his hand rest on the harsh white linen, bathed by a slanting triangle of sunlight. Ranma had been right there, next to him. It was almost surreal, but since Ranma had taken Ryoga's change of clothes with him, it was real, all right.

A slight jingle as Ryoga moved his head revealed a couple of bright bangle bracelets on the pillow. Ryoga sat up, smiling, and slipped the bracelets on, rattling them experimentally. He hauled his rucksack up from under the bed and dropped the bracelets off of his arm into a side pocket. There was no hurry. Last night's embrace had given him a feeling of unbounded optimism. Ranma might need some time. That was all right. Ryoga would brush his teeth, and take a shower, maybe do a little shopping, and then set his beacon for home.

* * *

Ranma limped up the walk. She knew she looked pretty sloppy. Her fastest techniques to get home left her a little "windblown," to put it mildly. She took a minute to roll the waistband on Ryoga's pants over several times, and turn up the cuffs, too. She knotted the shirt in front.

A man and a woman were heading away from the door, and Ranma was all set to ignore them when the man stopped abruptly.

"P-pigtailed G-g-goddess?"

Ranma stared at Kuno incredulously. This was so incredibly not what she needed right now.

"My goddess," Kuno breathed, dropping to his knees, "why are you dressed like that?"

"Why are _you_ dressed like _that_?" Ranma returned, goggling at Kuno. He'd almost never seen Kuno in anything other than his kendo uniform. The boy had on a neatly pressed button-down shirt and slacks, and a strange sort of cap.

"It is the Aid Society uniform," sniffed a haughty voice.

_Kodachi. Great.  
_

"Yes, um, how _could_ I not have noticed? We peasants are often uneducated. May I ask, why are you visiting the Tendo's?" Had Kasumi had a nervous breakdown? She'd been pretty worried about him.

"Tendo Kasumi has had a letter from our Society President," Kuno replied. "We thought it would be a good touch to deliver it in person. And now, if I may..." His eyes glazed over in worship as he reached for Ranma's hand.

"No, you may not," Ranma said, stepping back. She grinned at Kuno. "Kuno, _baby_, I just spent the night with a guy. Your goddess is impure. Fallen. Unsuitable."

Kuno looked at Ranma in confusion. "But..."

"Clearly she is no good for you, brother," Kodachi said impatiently, scanning the bushes for signs of her darling male Ranma, who often seemed to be around when this infuriating, rude hussy was.

Ranma smiled. "Sorry, Kuno."

Kuno stood up straighter, and Ranma could feel the smile sliding off of her face as Kuno suddenly whipped his bokken up from out of nowhere. "Goddess, I will save you! It is up to me to purify you! First, show me to the scoundrel who has defiled you!"

_Are you serious?_ There was nothing wrong with a little playtime, but Ranma wanted a shower and a nap, _right now._ She thought of a good idea. "He went that way," she said, pointing definitively behind her. "He had dark hair. And glasses."

"Come, sister!"

_Uh-huh. Go get 'im, tiger.  
_

Ranma limped closer. A figure moved in the doorway, and Ranma's breath caught in her throat.

_Mother._

* * *

Nodoka flew down the steps and held Ranma lightly on each arm.

"Ranma!"

The silk kimono was cool on Ranma's cheek. She let herself enjoy the feeling as Nodoka fussed around her, patting her back, adjusting her clothes, and smoothing her hair. _I'll go back to being a manly man soon. In just another minute._

"Kasumi told us everything. Your father and I have been beside ourselves with worry."

_Pops? Feed-him-to-the-cats-it'll-make-him-stronger Pops? That'll be the day._ Ranma found that she was touched nevertheless.

"You need a bath, dear."

Nodoka whisked Ranma inside the house and down the hall with a welcome efficiency. They passed Soun Tendo, and Ranma caught the hint of a raincloud, but then she was safely in the bathroom.

Nodoka popped out of the bathroom and returned with a stack of clothes. "There, dear, you can change into these clean clothes when you're done." She set them on the counter. Her gaze lingered on Ranma and her features softened, rather like Ryoga's often did.

Ranma felt a rush of happiness wash over her. _Mother loves me. Even when I'm sweaty. _

Nodoka's eyes crinkled prettily at the corners. "Call me if you need anything," she said.

"Mom, wait – I'd like to know-" _So, about Ryoga..._

"Yes, dear?" Nodoka turned almost a shade too quickly, as though she had been expecting this question.

Ranma felt swiftly that she would die if her mother looked at her in disgust. She, who could punch through steel like tissue paper – she was too fragile. She couldn't bear it. "Nothing, Mom, sorry." Ranma turned and started stripping out of her clothes, and when she chanced a peek again, her mother was gone.

* * *

"Ranma. Ranma, I see you up there. Don't pretend you don't hear me." Akane had been doing aerobics in the backyard with Nabiki, and now she stood in her leotard with her hands on her hips, her hair jutting out at strange angles from her terry-cloth headband.

Ranma closed his eyes briefly, and then vaulted out of the tree. "Hey, Akane. What's up?" He forced a pleasant look onto his face. "Wanna spar?"

Akane smiled. "No, thanks," she said, which surprised Ranma. "Maybe later." She took his hand from his side. "Ranma," she said shyly, giving the hand a little tug, "Would you like to get some ice cream?"

Oh, no. That was the one thing he couldn't pretend to be: Ryoga, going on an ice-cream date with Ranma. That would be far too painful.

"I don't think you need ice cream right now," Ranma said, the words leaping out of his mouth before he could stop them, his free hand gesturing automatically to Akane's thighs as cruelly as he could. His heart wrenched as he saw the hurt pass over Akane's face, but the next words out of Akane's mouth shocked him.

"Oh, Ranma," Akane said evenly. "Stuff it. There's nothing wrong with my thighs and we both know it. Now, I'll get cleaned up, and we _will_ go out. Got it?" She didn't wait for him to respond, and marched inside.

* * *

Ranma couldn't help sneaking glances at Akane all the way downtown. Akane hadn't pounded him to a pulp for saying something stupid? Hiroshi really was good for her. He almost, but not quite, wished he were in love with her; Akane in a short skirt and _not angry_ was a real catch.

Akane found them a booth. Ranma ordered in a daze, at a loss for words. _Pretend she's you. Come on. What would you want Ryoga to say?_

_I love you. Let's visit Prague._

_No, dummy, you can't say either of those things to her._

"Ranma..."

_She's got my hand again._

Akane pressed something small into the palm of Ranma's hand, talking earnestly. "Ranma, I think this is best for all of us."

Ranma looked down at the ring in his hand and blinked rapidly. He had an urge to say, _No, keep it_, but it was his mother's ring, really. He ought to give it back if Akane didn't want it – which apparently she didn't.

"Akane..."

Akane was blinking, too, and smiled too brightly at the waitress who came by with their ice creams.

Akane waited until the waitress had left. "Ranma, you have to know I love you, but I can't marry you."

Ranma waited for a while to let this sink in. _The great Ranma Saotome, rejected._

"Are you – gonna marry Hiroshi, then?" Ranma finally said churlishly, knowing he sounded foolish.

Akane shook her head. "No. Maybe. But not right now. Right now I'm not going to marry anyone." She took a breath, gaining courage. "I've got to finish school, and maybe Nabiki will help me study for the entrance exams to college. Hiroshi is nice, but, who knows," she shrugged. "I might meet someone later, too. But-" she looked directly at Ranma, "I definitely want you to know it's not because I don't love you."

Ranma turned the ring around in his hands, and then put it in his pocket. He tried to sort through his emotions. _I'm not Akane's fiance anymore._ It was a curious statement. Who had he been before he'd been engaged to Akane? He'd just been a kid, who trained a lot. He and Akane had come a long way together. "Akane..."

Ranma looked up and read a wealth of understanding in Akane's eyes. _I wish I'd known she could be like this before._

"Ranma, here." Akane pushed Ranma's glass of water towards him. "Come on. Our ice cream is melting."

Ranma looked at the glass, bewildered, and then he understood. Heck, why not. He looked around to make sure no one would be surprised, and then poured the water carefully over his head, reveling in the change. If he wasn't going to be Akane's fiance, maybe he could be her friend instead. Ranma picked up the spoon. Make that, friend with (ice cream) benefits.

* * *

Akane felt herself go almost limp with relief, and she kept her hands and spoon moving so that the adrenaline rush could leave her body unnoticed. She tried to avoid staring at Ranma, who was striking in a gamine, pixie-like way even in plain old practice clothes.

Now comes the interesting part, Akane thought to herself. "So...," she began casually, spooning ice cream soup out from around the melting scoop, "I went to visit Ryoga..."

Ranma's head snapped up and then down. "Yeah?" she asked casually, eating a strawberry in two swift bites.

It was really interesting how Ranma in girl form had actually picked up girl-like mannerisms.

"Well, I thought he'd find you. I didn't know you'd be out longer than usual."

"Oh, he found me."

Akane fumbled with her spoon. He had? Then where was he? "And?"

Ranma looked up from beneath her eyelashes. "And?" she prompted wickedly.

_Hey, he's teasing me!_ Akane flicked a sprinkle at Ranma, who caught it in her mouth and then licked her lips.

"Well?" Akane demanded. "What happened?"

Ranma grinned. "You know, this and that...we spent the night together..."

"You didn't!"

"Did too." Ranma's expression drooped slightly. "But...Ryoga and I...it'll never work..."

"Doesn't he like you?"

"Yeah..."

"And don't you like him?"

"Yeah...but come on, Akane, our families! Your father, my father, my _mother_! What are they going to say to us not being engaged? And even if we're not, Ryoga and I- " Ranma's voice caught, and she looked down.

Akane thought critically that now she understood why some men went for the waifish look. Ranma looked much too pathetic and huggable right now. It was a pity that Akane was just too solid-looking to pull that off. Fortunately, Ranma wasn't going to be waifish-looking for long.

"Well, I have some news for you." Akane enjoyed having some good news for a change. The two families had done a lot of talking while Ranma had been away. "Point number one: you're right, Daddy wasn't pleased at all. But, when Nabiki pointed out that you already do the bulk of the teaching, and that Master Happosai likes you, sort of, so there's no danger of him destroying the dojo, Daddy conceded that maybe we don't have to get married after all." There had been a lot of chest-thumping posturing between her father and Ranma, quite a few more tears, and finally the calm but combined testimonies of both Kasumi and Auntie Nodoka, but this step had been accomplished.

"Point number two: your father thinks your curse is some kind of secret weapon, and thinks that since you have two bodies, you can train twice as hard, or something like that."

Ranma snorted, but looked pleased.

"And point number three: your mother is fine with it." Akane looked anxiously at Ranma. "Did Hiroshi ever show you those charts?"

"Yes," Ranma said slowly. "But how can you guys be so sure about that?"

Akane couldn't blame Ranma for being skeptical. "Come on, Ranma. Surely you don't know anyone who wants things to be different but then _goes along pretending something because that's what people expect?_"

Ranma blushed, looking hopeful. "So you mean, she's really all right with my being a girl, and all that? And maybe even..." Her blush deepened.

"Maybe Ryoga too." Akane wasn't quite sure what Auntie Nodoka's reaction would be to Ryoga in particular, but she knew at least that some nice boy would be encouraged. Akane gave herself a mental pinch not to ruin Auntie's surprise. "You'll just have to wait and see." She looked at Ranma. "Is something still bothering you?"

"No...yes...no..." Ranma trailed off. "Well, it's Ryoga, kind of." Ranma twisted her hands. "He's great and all, but...why did he wait so long before coming to see me? I mean, I know I told him to go away, but, he just kind of gave up. I've been trying not to think about it, but it's been there..."

Akane laughed. She dug through her purse. The letter was still in there, the one she'd rescued after Akari had turned Ryoga into a pig, and she flipped it across the table. "Ranma, he wrote you _dozens_ of letters. But my father was trying to keep _us_ together and the two of _you_ apart, so he kept sending them back." After a few seconds, she leaned across the table, where Ranma was still looking wide-eyed at the envelope. "Well? Aren't you going to open it?" she teased.

"Not here!" Ranma exclaimed, slipping the letter into her shirt. She grinned exuberantly. "But thanks, Akane."

Akane smiled in response. There was Ranma, against whom she had fought, for whom she had pined, and with whom she had been growing up. It meant a lot to her to see Ranma happy. "Ranma, one thing?"

"Yeah?"

"Keep sparring with me. Please."

Ranma raised her eyebrows, and then her eyes hooded. "Sure, tomboy," she said easily. She put a bill on the table, enough to cover both of their ice creams. "But you'll have to catch me first."

_ Oh, drat. He's faster as a girl. _

* * *

It had been several days since Ranma and Akane had gone out for ice cream, when there was a sudden commotion in the dojo.

"Woah, who's that?"

"I don't know, but did you see those muscles?"

"Oh, my gosh, he's looking this way!"

"Not at you, I'm sure!"

Ranma looked up. "Is there a problem?" she asked.

"Er – Ranko-sensei," ventured one student bravely, "there's a guy outside."

Ranma looked up calmly. "Oh." She glanced over at Akane.

Akane looked up at just the right instant. Her eyes widened. "Go ahead, I'll combine the classes," she said, craning her neck as curiously as any of the students.

Ranma loosened her belt, reached over to the corner, and grabbed a thermos to change into a guy.

The students tittered nervously.

"She changed. Are they going to fight?"

Ranma tossed the thermos back into the corner and went lightly down the steps.

Ryoga turned to face Ranma. "I found you." He had a thumb hooked into either side of his belt and his head lowered slightly, almost as if they were about to fight a duel.

"So you did." Had Ryoga actually come here to fight? Ranma's senses told him no.

Ryoga looked at the faces crowded around the dojo door. "Do you always have this much of an audience?"

"When I'm teaching, yes."

The kiss was hard and unexpected and came like an attack. Ranma's back cracked against the tree in the yard, and when they came up for air, he slammed Ryoga into the same tree. It was such a relief, to be able to kiss someone he couldn't hurt if he tried, at least not physically.

The shocked silence in the dojo erupted into an excited babble, and someone, probably Akane, slid the door shut with a bang.

"What if my...mother...is watching?" Ranma gasped.

Ryoga bared his fangs. He had a ring tucked in his backpack, a ring that Ranma's mother had given him, that said she wouldn't mind at all. He pulled Ranma closer.

* * *

Suzuki-sensei glanced up from her papers and put a large green streak over one of them by accident. A red-headed girl in the most stunning kimono had appeared silently and was standing over her desk.

"May I help you?" Suzuki-sensei asked when she had her voice back.

"Yes, I'm in your class," the redhead said pleasantly.

Suzuki-sensei reached for her roster in something akin to panic. Surely she should have recognized this student.

"Saotome. Saotome Ranma."

Suzuki-sensei tried to conjure up a face for the name and came up with a slightly cocky-looking boy, black hair. He had usually been silent, and had sat in the back of the class. He hadn't been in for several weeks. And, most importantly, he'd been a _he_. Or had he?

Suzuki-sensei took another admiring glance at the girl's kimono. Someone had tailored it with love, choosing exactly the right fabrics to set off the girl's coloring. It was a wonder what a nice dress and some new hairstyling could do. "You have missed several classes," she said finally, tearing her eyes away in order to look at the attendance marks.

"I'd like to continue with the course. Will that be possible?"

"Well..." Truancy was not to be tolerated, but on the other hand, there were so many students who just slid through the cracks when something came up.

The girl sensed a weak resistance and pressed it. "If I get an A in every assignment from now on, will I be able to pass?"

Suzuki-sensei pursed her lips, her attention now completely on the gradebook. Saotome Ranma had been doing pretty good work until her unexplained absence. "Yes, your grade will recover in that case." She looked up and nodded. "I will certainly allow you to try. But, I am warning you, it will be difficult to make up all of the material for the days you have missed."

The girl looked back serenely and tossed her pigtail over her shoulder. "Anything goes," she said. She smiled and bowed. "Thank you, sensei."

A few seconds after the girl had left, Suzuki-sensei thought she heard someone say something like, "Not in the dress my Mom made for me, Happosai, you old pervert! I'm gonna knock you into the next century!" and she thought she felt a giant tremor...but she dismissed that as a side effect of having done one too many integrations in the complex plane, and decided it was time to go home.

-END-

A/N: Thank you for reading.


End file.
